Full text of "Seventy-five years in old Virginia; with some account of the life of the author and some history of the people amongst whom his lot was cast,--their character, their condition, and their conduct before the war, during the war and after the war"

See other formats

% -^6^ :^;.

■■^ysp V'^^\/ -o^*^-^*/ **,-'.:-.',.

si' ^ ;

'•.^- .^0^ '^-

^P-^^

.* G^ ^ *^T* ^^

» - V V

■<5> pi* . 0 * o « *>->

" e m 0

o " • ,

SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS IN
OLD VIRGINIA

w^^^^^^

SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS IN
OLD VIRGINIA

With some account of the Hfe of the Author
and some history of the people amongst
whom his lot was cast,— their char-
acter, their condition, and
their conduct before the
war, during the war
and after the war

John Herbert Claiborne, M. A., M. D.

Honorary Alumnus of the University College of Medicine,
Honorary Fellow and ex-President of the Medical Society of
Virginia, Corresponding Member of the Gynecological So-
ciety of Boston, Fellow elect of the Victoria Institute of
Great Britain, Member of the First Pan-American Congress,
Formerly Member of the House of Representatives and Sen-
ate of Virginia, Lately Major and Surgeon of the 12th Vir-
ginia Infantry, Mahone's Brigade— Subsequently Surgeon
on the' General Medicai^Staff of the Confederate Army, and
Executive ' Officer in charge of all Military Hospitals at
Petersburg, Va., etc., etc.

Teveadd <E>&)<?
WITH PORTRAITS

New York and Washington
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY
1904

Li«R*h'' -■ CON<:.«E3S
Two Copies RecBiyed

MAR 25 1904

CLASS ^ XXc. No,

5x7-70
COrY 8

To my only Sister,
Mrs. Mary Augusta Thomas,

of Marion, Alabama,

who as comrade of my early years will read with
more interest than others this record of personal
reminiscences, and who, as to the rest, will doubt-
less prove my most lenient critic, this volume is
affectionately inscribed.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. - - - Personai, and For My Personal Friends.

My Birth — The Character of the People Amongst Whom I
Was Bom — At School at Leasburg, North Carolina — My
Mother — At Ebenezer Academy — I Attend Randolph-Macon
College — Emory & Henry College — Again at Randolph-
Macon — I Matriculate at University of Virginia — To Phila-
delphia, Where I Take Diplomas From Jefiferson Medical
College, the Pennsylvania Hospital, and the Philadelphia
Obstetrical Institute — On Staff of Jefferson Medical College
— I Return to Virginia and Look for a Location — Decide
on Petersburg — Some First Experiences, 17

CHAPTER H. -------- Petersburg in the Fifties.

The City as I Found It — Some Early History — The Population,
and a Comparison — The Society — The Fourth of July —
Hospitality and Liberality — The Business Interests — Growth
of the City — Its Hotels and Taverns — A Professional ad-
venture— Principal Resources and Finances — Its Municipal
Government — The Churches and their Pastors — The Color-
ed Congregations — The Press of Petersburg in 1850 and
Later — The Schools and Teachers — The Petersburg Bar
and Some Reminiscences of Its Honored Members — The
Physicians of Petersburg — Recollections of Many Notable
Members of the Profession Before and During My Time —
Petersburg's Rise After the War, 40

CHAPTER III. - - - - Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period.

Politics in the Past — The Two Parties of the Day — The
Alliance of the Whig and Know-Nothing Parties to Fight
the Democratic Party — The Wreck of the Whig Party —

Contents.

]\Iy First Vote Cast With the Democratic Party — Nomi-
nated by the Democratic Party for the House of Dele-
gates— An Unwilling and Unexpected Launch Upon the
Sea of Politics — Everything Goes Democratic — Some Ac-
count of Events in the Exciting Sectional Drama Leading
to the Outbreak of Hostilities — A Nefarious Mission — The
John Brown Raid the First Gun of the Fight — I Decline
Re-election, but Am Renominated Against IMy Wish and
Elected — Serve in i857-'58 and Again in i859-'6o — An Ac-
count of Events and Measures Immediately Preceding the
War — My Position Made Clear — Speeches in the Senate
and Elsewhere — The Nominations of the National Conven-
tions— The Secession Convention — The Peace Conference —
The Call For Troops From Virginia by the Government
the Last Straw — The Union Men of Virginia — A Visit to
Washington and Some Things Heard and Seen — Opinions
of Eminent Men North and South — Governor Letcher's
Proclamation, 128

CHAPTER IV. - - - - The War.

The Fourth Virginia Battalion Receives Orders — Quartered in
Norfolk — The Companies and Oflicer.s — I Accompany the
Battalion as Captain and Assistant Surgeon — Am Again
Elected to the Senate — Ordered to Take My Scat by the
Secretary of War — Obey the Order and Resign, and Apply
For Orders For the Army — An Interview — Ordered to Open
Hospitals in Petersburg and Made Surgeon in Charge —
Appointed Post Surgeon — How Some Supplies Were Ac-
quired— Events Preceding Siege of Petersburg — Arrival of
the Enemy — Incidents of the Siege — Ordered to Remove the
Hospital Patients and Correspondence with General Lee —
The "Fiasco of the War" — An Adventure Before the Lines
of the Enemy — "In Vinculis" — The Crater — General Ma-
hone's Part in the Crater Affair — I Am Visited By a Shell
at Night — More Incidents of Our Great Generals, And An-
other of Mahone in Particular — What Manner of Man Was
He? What Manner of Men Were They? — Five Forks —
Evacuation and Events Lnmediately Following, 191

Contents. xi

CHAPTER V. - - - The Surrender and Events Foi.eo\ving.

The 2nd of April, 1865 — I Prepare to Evacuate — A Pathetic
Scene — I Note the Absence of My Dog Jack — A "Borrow-
ed" horse — On to Amelia Court House — An Invitation
From Mahone — Romulus Given His "Free Papers" — A
Brave Quartermaster — I Lose All My Possessions Through
a Yankee Cavalry Raid — The Asset of a Broken Concern — ■
"A Swig From the Same Canteen" — The Best Forager I
Ever Saw — Signs of Demoralization — Fall Into the Hands
of the Enemy — I Give Away a Pair of Spurs — Interview
With General Devlin — An Invitation to a Much-Needed
Breakfast — I Show the "Sign of Distress" — Ordered To Be
Paroled — A Night Adventure— Mahone Again and a Parole
Blank — An Inhospitable Reception and the Very Opposite —
A Question of Boots — With My Wife and Children Once
More — A disagreeable incident — The Finale of The Old
Regime, 259

CHAPTER VI. ------ - Events Following the War.

My Dog Again — I Am Warned to Leave Petersburg — Make
A Purchase and Start for Louisburg, N. C. — Back Again
and to Work — The Condition of the South Before the War
An Anomaly of Content and Happiness — The Military Gov-
ernment— The Carpet-Bag Government and Its Curse —
Opinions of Some Eminent Northerners On the Reconstruc-
tion Period — Will History Reproduce Itself in the Philip-
pines— The Evidence of Robbery, 311

APPENDIX.

The Last Fight at Five Forks— Mr. Granier— What Manner of
Man Was He — In the Interest of Justice to Mahone — Old
Blandford Church— Personal Ancestry — American Bastiles
— Dahlgren's Raid— "Who Fired the First Gun?" 330

PREFACE

In Februar}^, 1900, the author received a request,
through Mr. F. B. Sanborn, of Massachusetts, to read
a paper on the "Changes in the Sociology of Old Vir-
ginia During the Last Half of the Last Century," be-
fore the National Sociological- Society of America, to
convene in Washington on May 2, 1900. He acknowl-
edged the compliment, and accepted the invitation ; but
circumstances made it impracticable for him to fill the
engagement.

In gathering data for the fulfilment of that task, the
author filed many of the facts recited in the first chap-
ter of this volume. Becoming more interested in the
subject, he continued to write, until reminiscences
grew and multiplied, and crowded one upon another,
and the whole scope and design of the original inten-
tion of the writer was lost in that law of association
which the poet puts into classic verse :

"Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain,
Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain.
Awake but one, and lo ! what myraids rise !
Each stamps its image as the other flies."*

In the meantime the author saw that his reminis-
cences had run, in length at least, into a book; and as
custom ordains that every book should have a preface,
he followed the precedent. In the preface, as is usual,
he furnishes his readers with the reasons which induced
him to appear before them, and, unbidden, to parade
his wares.

* Rogers, "Pleasures of Memory," Part II.

xiv Preface

Primaril}', he wishes to say that he wrote these
"Reminiscences," in good part, to please himself —
CacoctJies scribendi if the reader chooses so to char-
acterize it.

Secondarily, he desires to publish the book for the
information of his children and grandchildren, and in
their interest to record some account of his early life,
as well as some of the revolutionary scenes and times
in which his long and eventful life was cast; and to
some extent to give a rehearsal of the part which he
played in the exciting drama.

He confesses that since the commencement of his
task the wish has grown that he could catch the ear of
the great public of the present generation, that he
might impress their minds with some lasting memory
of the heroism of their fathers, and of the heroism of
their mothers, during four years of a cruel and relent-
less war, waged to their very doors, and of the patience
and fortitude with which the former, when disarmed,
bore for eight years the contumely, humiliation, and
oppression of the carpetbagger and the scalawag.

And now, once and for all, he disclaims any personal
bitterness or any rankling in his heart of a revenge
which he is content to leave to Him who says "ven-
geance is mine."

For the Northern soldier who struck for the right as
he saw it, and who leveled his blows at men, not at wo-
men and children, and who, when victor, extended his
hand in help to his fallen foe and generously divided his
own thin rations with him, the author has no feeling
but that of honor and admiration of his manhood. But
for the soldier who boasted that he had "cut a swath
through two States a mile in breadth, marked by the
chimneys of burned mansions and desolated homes;"
for the soldier who proclaimed that a "crow flying over
the fairest portion of the Valley of Virginia would have

Preface xv

to carry his rations with him to avoid starvation ;" for
the soldier who ordered that "any grain left as food
[for the helpless inhabitants] should be scattered in the
fields and trampled in the dust;" for the soldier who
made chloroform and opium contraband of war, and
directed all medicine to be swept away or confiscated
when found in a Southern home ; for the soldier who
ordered the capture and imprisonment of the unarmed
surgeon, refusing to leave his post and giving humane
help to friend and foe alike ; for the soldier who could
drive out from their homes the women and children of
a whole city, and send them into the wilderness without
food or shelter in the midst of the rigors of winter, and
turn a deaf ear to their cries — for all these the author
feels a contempt which words cannot measure, and an
undying wish to pillory to posterity some names that
to-day desecrate the Temple of Fame.

And as to the present government of the United
States, he recogni:?es and accepts the change in the
construction of the Constitution — a construction born
of arms and not of law, but he took his oath of alle-
giance to the same, and he has kept the faith ; and,
more, he has given hostages of his fealty: he sent a
son, a volunteer and an officer of the line, to the Span-
ish-American War, and has a grandson who, in the
Philippines and elsewhere, has been upholding for sev-
eral years, as an officer in the Regular Army, the flag
of the tradition of the "Land of the free, and the home
of the brave" — and as long as it represents the tradi-
tion, so long may it wave.

As to the style of the text and its literary character,
whilst he feels that no author has a right to foist upon
the public crude and incorrect writing, he owes it to
himself to say that these pages were written mostly
after the fatigue of days of labor, and at night when
others were asleep ; and when, perhaps, some of his

xvi Preface

readers may think that he ought to have been also.
"What I have writ I have writ" — would it were
worthier.

And as to the criticism which may follow his work.
— He has reached an age where applause does not
greatly exalt, nor abuse depress. He is content to have
written the truth as he saw it and found it, and recog-
nizes his responsibility; and, following the words of a
better man,* in writing of a different matter, he adopts
the somewhat defiant family motto which was copied
from the entrance hall of Marischal College, Aberdeen :
''Thay haif said: Quhat say thay: Lat thame say."

* Geo. S. Keith, in Preface to a "Plea for a Simpler Life."

Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

CHAPTER I

Personal and For My Personal Friends.

My Birth — The Character of the People Amongst Whom I was
Born — At School at Leasburg, North Carolina — My Mother —
At Ebenezer Academy — I Attend Randolph-Macon College —
Emory & Henry College — Again at Randolph-Macon — I Matri-
culate at University of Virginia — To Philadelphia Where I Take
Diplomas from Jefferson Medical College, the Pennsylvania
Hospital, and the Philadelphia Obstetrical Institute — On Staff
of Jefferson Medical College — I Return to Virginia and Look
For a Location — Decide on Petersburg — Some First Experi-
ences.

I was born in Brunswick County, Virginia, on the
loth of March, 1828. So says the record in the old
Family Bible; and it must be correct, as the birth of
the first boy in the house was an event of note at that
day, and it is not probable that there would be a mis-
take. It is true that the law of primogeniture and
entail had been abolished for perhaps a third of a cen-
tury, as incompatible with the genius and unfavorable
to the simplicity of republican institutions ; but enough
of English custom and English thought still leavened
social life in the Old Dominion to cause the first son to
be considered the master of the house and the repre-
sentative of the family. Whilst it is not probable,
therefore, that a mistake was made in the registry, yet
it is due to truth to say that it does not accord with
traditional history. I was told, as far back as I can re-
member, that I was born on the day and at the hour
of a very severe earthquake which traversed this por-
tion of the State in the early twenties— an earthquake

i8 Sci'enty-iive Years in Old Virginia

so severe that in some places there were no inconsider-
able chasms made in the earth. But this occurred in
1829, instead of 1828; and there is no record, tradi-
tional or otherwise, of an earthquake at all in 1828.
1 accept, however, the record. Yet if the seismic con-
vulsions occurring about that time augured anything
of the troubled and tempestuous life which was await-
ing me, I should rather incline to tradition.

The section of the country in which I was born was
known as "The Red Oak Neighborhood." This was
about fifteen miles north of Lawrenceville, the county
seat, and was distinguished as a locality for the wealth,
culture, refinement, and hospitality of the families who
occupied it. Theywere literally the F. F. V's — a term
which had not been used up to that time as a covert
sneer, and, as it has been so often used since, to decry
a race of men whom their critics would have us, of this
day, believe were a pretentious and bloated aristocracy,
resting their claims to eminence upon ancestral merit.
They were large slave-holders, owning large planta-
tions, which had been their heritage for years, and
which gave with guaranteed wealth a leisure that fur-
nished opportunity for culture, a culture that insured
refinement and made the gentleman. The owning of
slaves established and cultivated the habit of command,
and fitted the master to lead — as the Southern man did
ever lead — in society, in politics, and in war.

The F. F. V's, descendants of the cavalier* elements
which settled that State and wrested it from the savage
by their prowess, introduced a leaven in the body
politic, which not only bred a high order of civilization
at home, but spread throughout the Southern and
Western States, as the Virginian, moved by love of
adventure or desire of preferment, migrated into the

*See Appendix.

Personal and for my Personal Friends 19

new and adjoining territories. And from this sneered-
at stock was bred the six milHons of Southrons who
for four long years maintained unequal war with thirty
milHons of Northern hybrids, backed by a hireling sol-
diery brought from the whole world to put down con-
stitutional liberty — a war waged to free four million of
servile blacks and to enslave six million of proud and
cultivated whites ; a war waged to place the foot of the
menial upon the neck of the master; an unequal war,
in which the same Southron stock struck undaunted for
honor and the right, until its cohorts of starved and
ragged heroes perished in their own annihilation.
And this same stock, after the disaster of a defeat worse
than death, and a decade of years of humiliation and
torture, sprang up again. Phoenix-like, from the ashes
of its desolation ; and thirty years after, the same de-
spised and damned stock sits again in the Halls of the
Congress of a nation that had affixed on it the stigma
of Felon, and its brigadiers are called to command
armies which were sent to suppress it as a traitorous
faction.

This is a digression. But I make no apology for it.
I am proud to record that I was born and reared
amongst such a people ; and I regard this as the high-
est heritage that I can hand down to my children and
my children's children.

From my grandfather, Captain John Herbert Clai-
borne, who, as a member of the "Surry Troop," a com-
pany of young gentlemen who armed and equipped
themselves, and fought without pay in the famed legion
of "Light Horse Harry" Lee, I learned the story of
war and drank in the lesson that "resistance to tyrants
is obedience to God." Little did he surmise that his
grandsons, under Robert E. Lee, the son of his old
commander, would ever be called to draw their swords
in defense of home, and of the holy soil of Virginia —

20 Seventy 'five Years in Old Virginia

assailed not by alien hands, but by the hired hordes of
a government which had been founded on principles
enunciated by Virginia statesmen and established by
the prowess of Virginia soldiers.

But to return. Until nine years of age I lived on my
father's plantation the life of a Virginia boy, — roving,
hunting, fishing, riding, driving cattle, — always follow-
ed by two or three negro boys of about the same age,
my satellites and companions, partners in any mischief,
and with whom I cheerfully divided any good fortune
which came to me in the way of cakes, fruit, or other
edibles. Thus was established that good feeling and
mutual trust which characterized the relationship of
master and slave. The negro of that day was proud
of his master, devoted to his interests, and would lay
down his life for him or his family.

The doors of the mansion house were rarely locked
at night, and its inmates were as safe from alarm or
intrusion as if surrounded by a cordon of police. What
a travesty the present condition of things presents,
since freedom has come with its blessings of Northern
civilization and education !

When I became nine years of age my father conclud-
ed that it was best for me to break up this free and
semi-nomadic life, and to send me from home to
school. I had picked up the rudiments of education in
a female school which had been established at home
for the education of my two sisters, and which was
taught by two Northern ladies, one a Miss Parsons, of
Massachusetts, and the other a Miss Draper, of New
York. Miss Draper was a sister of Dr. Draper, who
subsequently became the famous professor and savant
of the University of New York, but who, at that time,
was Professor of Chemistry at Hampden-Sidney Col-
lege in this State.

Personal and for my Personal Friends 21

At that date it was almost the invariable custom to
employ female teachers from the North, as Southern
ladies were debarred by social status from engaging in
such work. My sister's education having been com-
pleted just at this era in my life, the school at home
was adjourned sine die — another reason which made it
imperative that I should seek other tutelage.

There were several male schools or academies in my
native county, — schools long established and of good
repute, — one of them, the Ebenezer Academy, found-
ed by Bishop Asbury (and to which, as will be seen, I
finally drifted) ; but my father, for some reason, doubt-
less satisfactory, but which I never understood, select-
ed a large boarding-school in Western North Carolina,
in Leasburg, Caswell County, and taught by an ex-
cellent scholar and gentleman, the Rev. Lorenzo Lea.
And to this school, on the ist of January, 1838, two
months before I entered on my loth year, I was taken
by my father and committed to the Rev. Mr. Lea, with
many charges to him as to the care and management
of his hopeful son, and much good and varied advice
to me as to my conduct and behavior.

I had never left home before, or slept out of my
mother's chamber; was known as a "mother's boy,"
and was petted and spoiled by her and my sisters, and
colored mammy, and, barring my father, who alone
held sway over me, considered myself Lord Proprietor
of the house and its happenings. Only he who has
jumped from such surroundings into the dormitory of
a big boarding-school for boys can imagine the cold
and icy plunge which engulfed my babyhood !

Well, after one session's buffeting I came out of that
bath no longer a baby, but a boy, almost a man ; if not
in strength, yet in the wisdom of this world's ways, and
— shall I add? — in wickedness. One lesson I learned,
however, and for which I shall be ever grateful: It

'^2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

taught me, in the future that awaited my manhood —
a most exciting and eventful future — to fall on my feet.
And whether in peace, in politics, in war, or in prison,
1 always managed to stand on my feet and to keep my
head above water.

I was utterly ignorant of what awaited me "at
school," and left home with a lighter heart than I would
have carried had I been aware of all that was before
me. Besides, I was to ride a race-horse all the way to
school, and that was the climax of my boyish ambition.
My father, as was the habit of many gentlemen of Vir-
ginia of that day, bred racing stock, and he promised
me, as an inducement to go, that I might ride a beauti-
ful Lusborough filly, — of an imported sire, — an animal
of great spirit, but kindly and gentle, and a splendid
riding-horse. I was a young rider, but accustomed to
horses, and to horseback exercise^ from early recol-
lection, and my father knew of my staying qualities and
had no fear of my mount. He accompanied me in his
gig — a two-wheeled concern, a homely analogue of the
cart of to-day — upon which was strapped my little
trunk, in which my rribther, with many tears and mis-
givings, had packed my clothes and belongings. The
butler (known then as dining-room servant) followed
on another horse — both to add dignity to the cavalcade
and to render any attention or service that we might
require.

It was more than an hundred miles from my father's
to Leasburg, the place of our destination, and it was in
January, with the winter roads of mud and water; but
we made our journey in three days, not uncomfortably,
and to me without fatigue. Indeed the trip to me was
enjoyable, and the memory of that ride lingers amongst
my pleasant things of the past. But not until I had
been conducted from the village tavern, in Leasburg,
to the boarding department of the academy, and saw

Personal and for my Personal Friends 23

my father file away on the road which looked toward
home, followed by the butler leading my filly riderless,
did the utter desolation of my condition strike me. I
was no longer a man, but a child again, as I was only a
child in form and in years, and I gave vent for the first
time to a child's feelings and to a child's tears. But
this only continued a Httle while, and it was the last
paroxysm of grief to which I gave exhibition. As
young as I was, I soon discovered that one's sorrow
was his own, and that there was no place and no pity
for such demonstration amongst the bright or busy
or bad boys about me. I knew that with such show of
myself I should be called "baby," and I would "have
died and made no sign" before I would have asked or
accepted consolation or borne that soubriquet for an
hour.

One object which my father had in taking me so far
from home was to take me from my "mother's apron
strings," as he called it, and to wean me from my de-
pendence on, and my adoration of, her. In that object
he failed. My love for her was intensified, if such a
thing were possible ; she was never out of my thoughts
by day or my dreams by night. I never laid down upon
my bed, or even stood at rest upon the play-grounds,
but that I religiously turned my face in the direction
of that Mecca, that home which her life and her pres-
ence consecrated. And I looked forward to meeting
her, when the session of the school ended and I should
be permitted to go back, as the one idea of happiness
which nothing could crown and nothing could displace.
I wish to record right here that always thereafter,
though life brought me success, and a loving and be-
loved wife, and a devoted family, and applause and
honor from men, yet nothing ever relit in my heart the
fire which went out one tempestuous night in January
just twenty years from that date, when, laying in my

24 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

arms, she breathed her last; and again I wish to re-
cord here, that whatever has come to me since of
pleasure, of interest, of profit, of advancement, there
has always been something lacking which life could not
fill. Even the physical world has been changed beyond
reparation, and places that I knew and connected with
her life have fallen out of my existence, and perished
as islands sunken in some unknown sea. Of all the
precious memories which hallow my past, her last
words linger as fresh to-day as when they fell from her
dying lips : "My son, when I close my eyes to-night I
do not care to awaken again, and before I sleep I wish
to say to you, that as boy or man you have never
grieved or distressed me." When the morning came
the tempest was over, and the sun revealed all that was
left of the most beautiful, the most affectionate, and
the most unselfish woman I ever knew ; but it brought
none of the old joyous light to me* From that hour I
have kept and cherished in my heart the hope that
sometime, somewhere in the Great Beyond, I shall yet
meet her again, and once more hold her again to my
breast.

But whilst this love of mother and of home was per-
haps morbid, as some might think, I soon made friends
of my schoolmates and enjoyed their association. The
boys were like boys are everywhere — disposed to lord
it over the smaller ones and the new scholars, but they
never were guilty of the foolish and cowardly system
of hazing such as prevails at the Virginia Military In-
stitute and at West Point, and some other State-fed
and self-asserting establishments. I never suffered an
indignity to be put upon me without repelling it to the
best of my ability, and though I always came off worst-
ed, as the smallest and weakest boy in school, yet I

*See Appendix.

Personal and for my Personal Friends 25

always came off likewise with the decided respect of my
adversary, and after a little while had no further per-
sonal affrays. Indeed, in a very short time my friends
grew in numbers and in grace, and as it was always my
pleasure to meet them with courtesy and kindness, I
was soon dubbed with the soubriquet of "Gentleman
John Claiborne." I had forgotten this complimentary
appellation until, some two years ago, I saw an article
in a Raleigh paper, reminiscences of one of the "Old
Boys" of the Leasburg Academy, in which he referred
to me by that name.

When my first session of six months was ended, my
father sent a servant and horse for me, and I turned
my face homeward — no longer a child, though only
ten years and a few months old — with a heart so happy
at the prospect of again meeting my mother, that my
joy was almost delirious. The first night after leaving
Leasburg I stopped at Roxborough, North Carolina,
and riding up to the hotel (tavern), called for rooms
for self and servant. The old gentleman who kept the
hostelry was sitting on the long piazza, which seemed
an organic part of every tavern of that day. He did
not seem at all overcome by my presence, or abashed
by my precocious audacity, but received me more than
civilly, and, asking me to be seated near him, entered
into conversation with me. I can not recall after sixty
years the general subjects which engaged our atten-
tion, but one remark of his is fresh in my mind, as
upon that soft summer afternoon in June, on my asking
for some water, he startled me by saying that he had
"never tasted a drop of water in twenty years"; that
"water gave him the headache," and he was "compelled
to drink whiskey in the place of it." His face attested
the accuracy of his statement, and I was not surprised
to hear some few years afterwards that even whiskey

26 Scz'cnty-ik'C Vcars in Old Virginia

could not relieve his headache, and that the village
tavern had fallen into other hands and my village boni-
face had fallen into the grave.

But another incident indelibly fixes that visit to Rox-
borough in my mind. Going out on the street (there
was but one street in Roxborough at that time) I no-
ticed on the counter of one of the stores a collection
of hats, one of them quite tall and stylish-looking to
me, and it at once occurred to me that that hat would
not only add manly grace to my general get-up, but
that it would be a revelation to the folks at home w^hen
they saw me approaching with so grand a head-piece.
But to give completeness to the picture I should ex-
plain. It was the fashion of the boys at the Leasburg
Academy to wear their hair cut short behind — shingled,
it would be called now — and long in front, coming-
down, when parted, below the ears, sometimes as far
as the collar. These w'ere called "soap locks," the name
being derived from the saponaceous material wdiich
was not infrequently applied to paste them in position.
Some of the fellow^s had full ambrosial locks worthy of
Jove, and were the envy of the school. Not so, all of
them — mine were thin and yellow, and obedient only
to generous pasting. It was above these locks that I
had set the crowning grace of my tall chapeau. So at-
tired, I rode up on the evening of that day, after a day's
journey, to a hotel in Boydton, Virginia, on my way
home. But my mother was at the hotel awaiting me,
having come partly with that object, and partly that
my two sisters, just turned out, might attend the com-
mencement exercises of Randolph-Macon College,
which was then established near Boydton.

I will pass over the first glad greeting with which she
received me and held me to her heart. This was in
the public-room of the hotel. Almost immediately she
ushered me into her private apartments, and, holding

Personal and for my Personal Friends 27

me off at arm's length, with a countenance in which a
sense of horror and a sense of the ludicrous seemed
striving for the mastery, she exclaimed : "My son, my
son, where did you get that hat? And that hair?"
Without a moment's delay, and with as much gentle-
ness, perhaps, as the occasion called for, she removed
the hat from my head. Calling for a pair of scissors,
the hair soon followed the hat — my precious, long-
trained locks. What became of hat or hair I never
knew, for I never saw either afterwards.

After adjusting other parts of my attire more in ac-
cordance with what she deemed suitable for a boy of
ten years of age than for a man of twenty-five, — in
which it seems I had glorified myself with a view of im-
pressing the natives at home with my rapid strides to
manhood, — she presented me to her friends, in evident
pride of her boy. But for myself, I must confess that I
felt shorn of my gains; and as I contemplated my im-
age in the mirror I recalled the picture of a young
rooster that I had seen plucked of his feathers and
slinking away to the barnyard.

After my vacation was ended (the vacation at that
time covered four weeks), I returned to Leasburg,
where I spent two more sessions of five months each
without incident worth recording. At the expiration
of that time, my health, which was never strong, be-
came very feeble, and my father entered me as a schol-
ar at the Ebenezer Academy, an institution to which
I have before referred. This was five miles distant
from home, and I rode horseback every morning, car-
rying my dinner in a little basket and my horse's din-
ner in a wallet or bag which was tied behind my saddle,
returning every afternoon after school was "let out,"
as it was expressed at that day. As I was very fond of
horseback riding, this arrangement was not only very

28 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

agreeable to me, but was conducive to my health, which
soon became quite robust.

For the first two sessions of the school after I enter-
ed it, Mr. Hogan was the teacher; an old Irishman,
of fine classical education, and a good teacher and dis-
ciplinarian. He was a true believer of the old school in
corporal punishment, not only for disobedience and
mischief, but when he failed to impress a lesson on a
boy's mind as he thought he should, he applied the
birch without fail — to that other portion of the body
which has not been considered the seat of intellect.

After two sessions of my stay at the Ebenezer, Mr.
Hogan left, and the school was taken charge of by a
gentleman named Thompkins Rice. Mr. Rice was a
Virginian and a native of Brunswick County, but he
had been abroad for many years, and was educated at
Oxford, England. He was also a fine scholar, and, with
the exception of Prof. R. E. Rogers, and Prof. J. S.
Davis, to whom, after some years, I recited at the Uni-
versity of Virginia, the best teacher that I ever met.
He was, moreover, a very genial man, and was greatly
beloved by the boys; but he never abated a jot of his
dignity. Pie also was a strict disciplinarian, and in-
sisted upon perfect obedience to all rules of conduct
and of study, and announced in the beginning that he
would not tolerate a dunce or a dullard. If he ap-
pointed a task — and I must confess he was not a hard
master in the number or length of the lessons — he saw
that the task was completed perfectly; and if it was
not, the boy who failed knew what to expect and his
anticipations were certainly realized. Mr. Rice never
lost his temper or his equilibrium, but with great grace
and good humor he could plant a birch, without ever
missing the mark, upon that portion of a boy's anatomy
which the short jackets of that day seemed to expose
for the especial purpose.

Personal and for my Personal Priends 29

After two years, Mr. Rice succumbed to the charms
©f a handsome widow, whose ample means permitted
him to retire from the chair of the pedagogue, and the
Academy was again left without a teacher.

Our next master was a Mr. Lanier, a mild-mannered
gentleman, no great scholar, but a good teacher — a
man who made himself a companion to the boys in their
sports, who won their love and ruled by love. Under
his domination the rod ceased to appear.

At the expiration of two sessions 1 think another
change was made in the teachers, but at that time,
January, 1843, ^ ^^^^ sent to Randolph-Macon College
to enter the freshman class, half advanced.

I should add to this part of my narration that about
the year 1840 or 1841 a young relative of mine, John
R. Claiborne, having lost his father and mother, he,
with his sister, S. Josephine Claiborne, several years
younger than himself, was adopted into my father's
family, and John Claiborne attended the Ebenezer
Academy with me and went with me from there to
college. They were the children of Dr. Jas. B. Clai-
borne, of Brunswick County, who was not very closely
related to my father; but Dr. Claiborne married my
mother's sister, Jane Weldon, of Roanoke, and these
children were my mother's nephew and niece. They
were to me as brother and sister. John, when he grew
up to manhood, went to Central America, and died
there in two years after he left home^ at San Juan
del Sur, on the Pacific Coast, in the service of
the Nicarauguan Transit Company. Josie lived to
take care of, and to rear, my children after the
death of their own mother, and, after they were grown,
to comfort my father in his second widowhood, and
until he died, in extreme old age, at my home in Pe-
tersburg. She survived him many years, and died
under my roof, which had been her home virtually for

30 Sci'oity-ijvc Years in Old Virginia

twenty years, endeared to me as a sister, faithful and
affectionate, and to my children as a mother, loving and
dutiful — the only mother whom they ever remembered.
Our life at the Ebenezer Academy was rather quiet
and humdrum. One enlivening incident is impressed
upon my mind quite indelibly. There were some six or
eight boys who rode on horseback to school, retaining
their horses at the Academy and riding home after
school was "let out" in the afternoon. This number
made a very respectable company of cavalry, which we
organized and trained as such. But in an evil hour,
and led by that spirit of mischief which is born in every
boy, we charged the infantry of the school one day as
they formed for drill or play, and routed them with such
serious consequences, riding over several of them, that
a meeting of the Board of Trustees was called and we
were disciplined. My father was president of the Board
of Trustees, but though a stern man himself, he had a
keen eye for the picturesquely ludicrous, had been a
lover of fun in his young days, and seeing more to
amuse than to condemn in the heartrending details of
the encounter, we escaped any serious infliction. Our
cavalry company was disbanded, however, and we rode
no more in company of fours, nor fell any more upon
the flanks of the infantry. But how many of our little
l)and, twenty years afterwards, rode with Fitz Lee, and
with Stuart, and with Rosser, — rode upon the serried
squares of alien marauders on their homes and their
country, — I know not. As the war waged I would meet
one of them sometimes, with the same firm seat in the
saddle, the same spirit of dash and deviltry — but how
many were left to tell to their children the story of
battle and of bivouac is not recorded. I only know
that I can not recall a single living one to-day. As far
as I can learn, every one has responded to the last Long

Personal and for my Personal Friends 31

Roll, and every one has answered adsuin — here — to the
black sergeant — Death.

At the termination of the session of Randolph-Ma-
con College, in June, 1845, "^y health had again be-
come so impaired that my father concluded that it was
best for me not to return to college. But as my health
improved somewliat after a month's vacation, he sent
me to Emory & Henry College, in Washington
County — not only on account of the salubrity of the
climate, but as that institution had been conducted as
a labor school, he wished me to combine manual labor
with the course of the institution. At the time of my
matriculation the manual labor feature of the school
had been abandoned, and I only remained there about
three months, and returned home. I made some warm
friends, however, amongst them two young gentlemen
from Alabama, named Clayton, one of whom became a
general in the Confederate Army, but with whom I
was never fortunate enough to meet. They were my
room-mates.

It may be of interest to note that it took me, at that
time, three days and nights of continuous staging to
make the trip. It was not a dream of that day that an
iron horse would climb the Blue Ridge and Allegheny
Mountains and speed his way at the rate of forty miles
an hour.

At the commencement of the session of 1846 at Ran-
dolph-Macon College my health was so much improved
that I again matriculated, and after two years was grad-
uated with the degree of A. B. at the head of my class.
The faculty, being unable to determine upon whom the
hrst honor should be conferred, — Mr. J. C. Granbery
and myself having stood with equal grade for two
years, — settled the matter by lot. He drew the longest
straw, and, I may remark, has kept it ever since. For
some years he has been a distinguished divine and a

32 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. As
far as I can learn, he and I are tlie only surviving mem-
bers of the graduating class of 1848.

After graduation came the momentous question of
a choice of profession — a question that gave me great
trouble. My tastes, my inclination, and my ambition
led me to prefer the law. But my father, who had been
educated at William & Mary College for the bar, and
had practised law up to middle life, and laid it aside
after having achieved success, for reasons which
seemed pertinent and powerful to him, bitterly opposed
my following the same profession, urgently advising
me to study medicine.

In obedience to his wishes, therefore, I matriculated
at the University of Virginia in October, 1848, and took
the medical ticket. I had by no means made up my
mind to practise medicine, but 1 was young enough to
give a year to the study of the profession, and I knew
that by earnest application 1 could take the degree of
M. D. in that time, which would not only be quite an
addendum to a polite education but would greatly grat-
ify my parents. I succeeded in my efifort, and in July,
1849, was graduated with the degree of M. D. At that
day a student was not asked how long he had studied
medicine, or if he had studied it at all, but at the expira-
tion of the session an examination was placed upon
the boards, and the candidate for graduation was re-
quired to write his replies to the questions. If he
could answer correctly a certain per centum he was
given his degree. And, forsooth, he was entitled to it.
His knowledge of anatomy, of physiology, of materia
mcdica, of chemistry, of medical jurisprudence, and of
the theory of practise was tested and drained to the
last drop; and the little piece of parchment — diploma
— which was presented him, if successful, was a ready
witness to his proficiency anywhere thereafter that he

Personal and for my Personal Friends 33

chose to take it. Of course there were few graduates
— many throwing up the game in discouragement, as
not worth the candle. Eleven, I think, were graduated
in the class of seventy-two students of which I was a
member.

From the University of Virginia I went to Philadel-
phia, spending the remainder of the year 1849, ^^^ ^
good part of i850-'5i, in seeking practical knowledge
of the profession. I took a diploma from the Jefferson
Medical College, from the Pennsylvania Hospital, and
from the Philadelphia Obstetrical Institute, but I had
no more trouble with examinations.

After graduating at the Jefferson Medical College,
Dr. Thomas D. Mutter, Professor of Surgery in that
institution, one of the most skilful surgeons and most
accomplished gentlemen I ever knew, offered me a
place on the staff of the surgical clinic of the college,
one of my confreres being Dr. J. M. DaCosta, a young
Spaniard or Cuban, who subsequently settled in Phila-
delphia, and rose to the head of the profession. I had
just taken my place when my father summoned me
home. He had met with unexpected reverses, and as
1 had one profession there was no time to consider the
question of acquiring another, but pressing occasion to
put into practise one which had cost me no little money
and the elements of which I had pretty well mastered.
So it is "that there is a divinity which shapes our ends,
rough hew them as we may."

The next earnest and important question was, where
to locate. That was a matter involving not only life's
labor, but life's success or life's failure, possibly. Cer-
tain gentlemen in the town of Farmville and its vicinity,
moved by what consideration I never knew, proposed
to guarantee me the sum of twelve hundred dollars a
year if I would settle in that section. One of these
was Mr. Joseph E. Venable, who afterwards moved to
3

34 ScT'enty-five Years in Old Virginia

Petersburg', and who was one of our most upright and
honored citizens, and. to his death, one of my best pa-
trons and most faithful friends. I visited Farmville and
called on and thanked my stranger friends — for they
were all strangers to me ; but I had pretty well de-
termined to settle in some city, and the choice lay be-
tween Petersburg and Norfolk, as I had more friends
and acquaintances in those cities than in any others of
the Commonwealth. I visited Norfolk, which about
that time was a sleepy burgh of some 12.000 to 15,000
people, lacking in enterprise, but abounding in social
pleasures and distinguished for its hospitality and high
living. I had letters to a Doctor Andrews, whom I
found was not only considered the Nestor of the pro-
fession in that city, but almost the profession itself. I
had never heard one man referred to so universally as
head and shoulders above all others in the same line,
and I suspect he deserved the distinction.

Unfortunately I met with quite a severe accident a
few days after getting to Norfolk, and was compelled
to trespass upon his time and consult his skill. He im-
pressed me as a man thoroughly conversant with both
medicine and surgery (T had recourse to him as a sur-
geon), but I was especially struck with the simplicity
of his manner and of his treatment. In that perhaps
consisted his true worth as a doctor, and to that he
owed his undisputed and distinguished success.

I had two very good friends — old college chums —
in Norfolk, Prof. O. H. P. Corprew and Mr. E. T.
Hardy. Both received me kindly and hospitably, but
T concluded that I would not like Norfolk as a place of
residence. A fortunate conclusion. Four years after-
wards Norfolk was swept with a fearful epidemic of
yellow fever, more than half the local physicians dying,

Personal and for my Personal Friends 35

paying the penalty of their faithfulness with their lives.
One of my classmates at the University and in Phila-
delphia, Dr. Junius Briggs, fell an early victim.

After leaving Norfolk I concluded to locate in Pe-
tersburg, and on the ist day of January, 1851, I left
my father's house in Brunswick County, and, making
the trip of forty-five miles in one day, drove up to
Powell's Hotel in the evening and registered my name
and "at home." I came with two horses, driving one
given me by my father, to a fine sulky, which had been
made for me a few months before, costing $100, by Mr.
Jno. H. Atkinson, whose carriage factory was located on
Sycamore Street, just where Lewis & Bro. now have
their stand. The other horse was ridden by my body-
servant, Preston, a fine young negro man, given me by
my grandfather. I placed my horses in Ragland's Liv-
ery Stable, which occupied the locality where the China
Palace and adjoining store now stand, and next to
Powell's Hotel, which stood on the site the Iron Front
building recently occupied. I engaged board for my-
self and servant at the above-named hostelry, then kept
by Mr. Wm. N. Friend, the father of our esteemed citi-
zen, Mr. Alfred Friend, Sr. — kept with prodigal munifi-
cence of store and larder which characterized the old
tavern, where I made my pleasant home until two years
afterwards, when I married and made my own home.

A few days afterwards I rented an of^ce over the
store of Todd & Christian, druggists, then occupying
the store at the corner of Sycamore and Lombard
streets, now occupied by Mr. John Trusheim as a con-
fectionery and lodging-house. In doing so I bought
out Dr. R. M. Anderson, who wished me better luck
than he had had, saying that he had not been able to
make a living there. This, I confess, was discouraging,
as the doctor was a ma^ not only of some experience in
the profession, but a man of more than ordinary merit

36 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

and acquirement. He moved to Dinwiddie County
soon afterwards, where he was more successful, accum-
ulating quite a competency to cheer and support the
ripe old age to which he attained.

After three or four months of patient occupancy of
my quarters, my clientele did not crowd my reception-
room, as I had vainly imagined would be the case ; and
I began to fear that Dr. Anderson's fate awaited me.

I found it convenient, in order to eke out my failing
finances, to sell one horse, as two horses were only a
luxury, not a necessity demanded by my overcrowded
work. Then, after another short interval I concluded
that the constant attention of my servant in the ante-
room was scarcely entirely necessary for the reception
of the callers, whom I succeeded in apprising of my
presence or absence by an ingenious reversible card —
the invention, I suspect, of some impecunious person.
On one side of this card, posted upon the door, was
written "IN," on the other "OUT," with the hour of
return noted. This device was so happy that I dis-
pensed with the servant, hiring him out, thereby not
only feeding him, but utilizing the wages of his hire for
my own daily bread.

At the expiration of six months, reading one morn-
ing in the Scriptures that "a horse was a vain thing for
safety," I began, in a moment of abundant leisure, to
make a sort of an exegesis of the text, and, amongst
other ideas suggested by reflection, it occurred to me
that a horse was also a vain thing for a man to keep
whose provender was exhausted. I could not send my
horse to follow my servant, and make his own living,
for two reasons : Firstly, he had a glass eye. by which
he became generally well known, but which would
not have militated against his usefulness had he
not — secondly — manifested to all observers the most
conspicuous habit of insubordination, so that it became

Personal and for my Personal Friends 37

the general remark that he was a horse that would
allow no man to ride or drive him except the doctor
who owned him. I sent him, therefore, to the country,
to my father's, to spend the summer, my father kindly
offering to take care of him until the exigencies of my
practise demanded his recall. I did not send for him
again until the following winter. Practise began to im-
prove, and in addition I formed a co-partnership with
Dr. R. L. Madison, an old college-mate of mine, who
had settled in Petersburg some months after I did, and
between us we felt that, jointly, we could bear the ex-
pense of a horse. But we only kept him a short time.
During his long idleness he had "waxed fat," and was
more incorrigible than ever in his deviltry, and I had
to sell him. I sold him to a gentleman who was en-
gaged, I think, in hauling railroad iron, but Glass Eye
had made up his mind that he would submit to no such
humiliating service as the drawing of a dray, and like
an illustrious character in Scripture (Deuteronomy 32 :
15) who had "waxed fat" before him, he "kicked," and
cutting a large artery in his leg, lost his Hfe.

However, we soon secured a more docile Rosinante,
business improved rapidly, and we felt that we were
on the up grade. But as Dr. Madison and I were only
together for a year or so, and now are about to part
company, I can not leave this part of my story without
testifying that a more honest, faithful, loyal friend, and
a more genial, generous, great-hearted, and accomplish-
ed gentleman I never met. He was a great-nephew
of President Madison, of the proudest and purest of
old Virginia stock, modest and sensitive as a woman,
but as brave as and a type of the Chevalier Bayard. He
was a physician of high attainment, but ambitious to
be and do more than was open before him in so limited
a field as Petersburg. Dr. Madison married, on the
3rd of May, 1853, a lady of great accompHshments, and

38 Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia

as ambitious as himself — a Miss Leigh, of Orange
County, Virginia — and removed to Philadelphia, where
his talents and energy soon brought him into most
favorable notice. His wife lived only a year, I think,
after reaching Philadelphia, and two years afterwards
he married Miss Helen Bannister of this city, a most
estimable lady, a beauty, and a belle. Pie remained in
Philadelphia until the breaking out of the war between
the States — the War of the Rebellion, as it was termed
there, the especial home of hate and bitterness against
the South, and the home of one Rev. Brooks, who af-
terwards became a bishop of the Protestant Episcopal
Church, but who bore the savory reputation then, and
there, of being a persecutor of any unfortunate rebel —
man, woman, or child — who came under his power, and
with a cruelty and malignity only measured by his op-
portunity of giving them distress. It is to be hoped
that before he was called upon for the rendition of his
final account he stumbled upon a text which he might
have found in the great sermon of Paul, to the
Athenians, on Mars Hill when he was declaring to them
the Unknown God (Acts 17:30).

I enter no apology for this little digression.*
At the breaking out of the war Dr. Madison came
South, as did all its loyal sons — came home and struck
with them for fireside and altar. He was elected Sur-
geon and Professor at the Virginia Military Institute,

*To the Hon. Edwin G. Booth, of Philadelphia, formerly a citizen
of Virginia, Southern prisoners, wherever they could be reached by
him, were indebted for great kindness, and most liberal contribu-
tions of clothes, blankets, etc. And there may have been other
friends in the City of Brotherly Love as kind as he, but I never
heard of them. God knows who even gave a cup of cold water in
his name — and God reigns, even yet, and there. Any one wishing
to enquire further into this subject is referred to "United States
Bonds," a book published by Rev. I. W. K. Handy, D. D., of Au-
gusta County, Virginia, a journal of fifteen months' confinement as a
prisoner at Fort Delaware.

JOHN HERBERT CLAIBORNE

Of the Surry Troop
Light Horse Harry Lee's Legion, 1776

Persona! and for my Personal Friends 39

filling his place in war and in peace with distinguished
credit to himself. He died some ten years subsequent
to the restoration of the Union, in Thomasville,
Georgia, whither he had gone trying to evade the
Nemesis consumption, which had pursued to death his
first wife, and her two lovely daughters, just as they
budded into womanhood. A loving letter from him as
he was entering the dark scenes of the Great Unknown
told me of the fearlessness with which he was meeting
his last and only enemy, and of his perfect confidence
in a higher and better life. In a few days came the
announcement of his death.

"Green be the turf above thee,

Friend of my better days;
None knew thee but to love thee,
None named thee but to praise."

Dr. Madison was not a native of Petersburg, but of
Orange or Madison Comity, Virginia. Having lost
his father at an early age, he came to Petersburg with
his mother, who was a Miss Strachan, of this city, and
with her lived with Mr. Robert Strachan on a farm
near Butterworth's Bridge, at the head of Halifax
Street. But he was educated in Petersburg, and his
name should be listed upon the roll of the many sons
of the old Cockade City whose virtuous and distin-
guished lives have given her preeminence amongst the
cities of the Commonwealth.

CHAPTER II

Petersburg in the Fifties.

The City as I Found It — Some Early History — The Population and
a Comparison — The Society — The Fourth of July — Hospitality
and Liberality — The Business Interests — Growth of the City —
Its Hotels and Taverns — A Professional Adventure — Principal
Resources and Finances — Its Municipal Government — The
Churches and Their Pastors — The Colored Congregations — The
Press of Petersburg in 1850 and Later — The Schools and
Teachers — The Petersburg Bar and Some Reminiscences of Its
Honored Members — The Physicians of Petersburg — Recollec-
tions of Many Notable Members of the Profession Before and
During My Time — Petersburg's Rise After the War.

At the time when I settled in this city, on the ist
of January, 1851, it was a town of 103 years of age,
having- been incorporated by the House of Burgesses,
with the Town of Blandford, in 1748, and directed to
be laid off — the Town of Petersburg from the lands
of one Abraham Jones, and the Town of Blandford
from the lands of one William Poythress. These acts
of incorporation were probably passed at the instance
and by the influence of Col. William Byrd, of Westover,
who, in 1733, determined that two citites should be
founded in Virginia — one at the falls of James River,
to be called Richmond, and one at the falls of the Ap-
pomattox River, to be called Petersburg.

This town was named for Captain Peter Jones, ap-
pointed by the Council commander-in-chief of Fort
Henry. It was also called Peter's Point. At this point
was erected the first trading house on the river, just
opposite Bath Island, the former situation of the South-
side Railroad shops, and probably on the spot now oc-
cupied by Dunlop's factory. This was in the year
1675-

Petersburg in the Fifties 41

In 1720 Captain Peter Jones's name appears on the
Register of Bristol Parish, with that of one John Ban-
nister, both said to have been companions and com-
rades of that gallant and enterprising gentleman Col.
William Byrd, who about the year 1733 was employed
as one of the commissioners to run the dividing line
between Virginia and North Carolina. Bristol Parish
at that time extended from Charles City County to
Petersburg and Blandford, including those two cor-
porations, which corporations or towns must have had
some population, for from the same Registry we read
that in 1733 the old "Ferry Chapel," whose site was
somewhere in the neighborhood of Pocahontas Bridge,
*Vas out of repair, and too small to hold the congrega-
tion," and that the church wardens were instructed to
purchase an acre of land from John Low, on Wells' Hill,
Blandford, as a site for a new church ; and further that
Robert Boiling and Wm, Poythress were appointed
superintendents of the new building, "plans and speci-
fications prepared," and that they contracted with one
Thomas Ravenscroft to build the church for 485
pounds, current money of Virginia. The church was
completed in 1737, and in the month of August of that
year the vestry held its first meeting in it. This was
called the New Brick Church on Wells' Hill, and is to
us of to-day the Old Blandford Church, of sacred
heritage and precious memories. Though dismantled
and unused for worship now, it still stands, its roof and
walls in perfect preservation, a silent sentinel over the
graves of the sleepers of two hundred years. There
are few who enter its ever-open portals, or who tread
its vacant aisles, that do not feel a solemnity which
silences all save consecrated thought. "A Stranger,"
whose name has never been known, whilst visiting this
hallowed structure some time about the beginning of

42 Sez'oity-iirc Years in Old Virginia

the last century, penned on its walls certain striking and
beautiful lines, which can never be reproduced too
often.*

In 1752 a town was ordered to be laid oft from the
lands of Richard Wittom, on the northern side of the
Appomattox River, just opposite Petersburg — said
town to be called Pocahontas ; and John Boiling,
Richard Eppes, Augustine Claiborne, and Roger At-
kinson were appointed trustees. Amongst the ordi-
nances formulated by these worthy gentlemen for the
government of this town is one of interest so singular,
if not so curious, that it is worth noting, viz : That no
wooden chimney should be erected to any house within
the precincts of this town. And the sheriff was vested
with full power to pull down any such structure.

At this time, and indeed until the War of the Revo-
lution, Blandford was the most prosperous, if not the
most populous, of the three corporations which finally
coalesced into one city. Socially it was the court end.
Its merchants were tlu'ifty, enterprising, and wealthy,
carrying on direct trade with the Old Country, their
vessels landing their cargoes at Bates' Spring, on the
river, just below Blandford. And some of its citizens
were men of note, amongst them George Keith Taylor,
one of the most eminent jurists of his day, and Dr. John
Shore, one of the most eminent physicians.

In 1850 Petersburg, with its purlieus, Pocahontas and
Blandford, became a city, under a charter granted by
the General Assembly of Virginia, with power to elect
a mayor, common council, and other municipal ofificers,
by the people, with a z'iz'a voce vote, under the system
designated as manhood suffrage, or universal suf-
frage, which had been adopted by the Convention
of 1850 in the place of homestead suffrage. And

*See Appendix.

Petersburg in the Fifties 43

here was the entering wedge, as it was predicted
at the time, for the introduction of methods and man-
agement at the voting precincts which have oftener
suppressed than expressed the popular will. I do not
refer to its effects on this city alone, or this common-
wealth alone, but on every city and every common-
wealth where free suffrage, as it is now called, is adopt-
ed. And in some of the cities of this great country,
under this same license of free suffrage, municipal gov-
ernment has not only been a failure or a fraud, but the
municipal offices are often filled by men vicious and
corrupt, who pluck, to their own repletion, the body
politic as their lawful prey.

In the charter of March, 1850, the mayor was still
elected by the council, but afterwards it was changed
by vote of the people. On November 5, 1850, the
polls were opened on the question whether the mayor
should be elected by the council or the people. The
vote stood for electing the mayor by the people, 208 ;
for electing the mayor by the council, 59 — only 267
votes in all. This can easily be understood by reflecting
that a qualified voter at that date had to be a "free-
holder" of lots within the city, and own property to the
value of $150. Free suffrage has increased the num-
ber of suffragans greatly out of proportion to popula-
tion.

The population of Petersburg at this time — census
of 1850 — was 14,603. The first mayor elected by the
people was John Dodson, Esq., attorney at law, a most
courteous and elegant gentleman, and one who is
doubtless remembered by some of the citizens of this
day. For several years before his election most of the
functions of the office of mayor devolved upon a magis-
trate or police justice — in this instance upon a sturdy
and uncompromising old Scotchman known as Squire
Patterson. The Squire gave the "lar" (law) to all un-

44 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

fortunate offenders without fear, favor, or affection,
and was a terror to evil-doers. His executive officers
or policemen were only two — Billy Fenn and Billy Wil-
liams, sharp, shrewd, courageous, and sleepless guard-
ians of the public safety and the public peace. And
though the city embraced at that time within its cor-
porate limits a population of nearly 15,000, 1 think that
law and order were preserved as well and as fully as
now with a police corps of 26, and only about 7,000
more souls to superintend. 0 Temporal 0 Mores!

The society of Petersburg as I found it was refined,
cultivated, and exclusive. There were only about
6,000 whites, but it would have been diflicult to find in
the same population anywhere a greater number of
fine women or brave men. It had proudly borne for
forty years the soubriquet of the Cockade City of the
Union, a title conferred by President Madison in recog-
nition of the patriotic service of the "Canada Volun-
teers," a company formed from its best citizens, and
who marched from Virginia to the northern frontier
of the United States, in the War of 181 2, and at
Lundy's Lane got their baptism of blood in repelling
the British forces.

On visiting the monument in the Blandford Ceme-
tery, erected in memory of these heroes, and reading
the names recorded there, one could easily recognize
among the citizenship of Petersburg in 1850 many men
worthy of their sires, and many women worthy of the
men.

I have said of the society of Petersburg at this time
that it was exclusive. This does not indicate that it
was cold or repellant. A more hospitable and warm-
hearted people did not live, but a stranger was required
to bring character and cultivation as his credentials.
Money, with its meretricious adornments and its vulgar
display, was not the sesame to open any gentleman's

Petersburg in the Fifties 45

door. There were few people of large fortunes, — none
as fortunes are estimated now, — but a large propor-
tion of the population were possessed of comfortable
estates and incomes sufficient to insure a generous
support. In no portion of the Commonwealth were
the people in easier circumstances. And they mingled
in their social gatherings with a freedom and elegance
born of the old cavalier stock and worthy of their in-
heritance. Their public gala days were the 22d of
February — Washington's Birthday, and the 4th of
July, the birthday of National Independence. On both
of these days business was virtually suspended, and
there was a parade of the military and the firing of
national salutes. On the night of the 226. of Febru-
ary there was generally a ball given at one of the promi-
nent hotels, where the beauty and chivalry of the city
and surrounding country assembled,

"And chased the glowing hours with flying feet."

Military spirit was rife at that time in Petersburg, as
it had been for forty years, and as it was at the break-
ing out of the Civil War. There were three companies
of infantry and one of artillery, all of full ranks and
composed of the best material, not only of young men,
but of men of any age under forty-five years, the limit
of military service. In the ranks were found men of
all classes, all grades of social condition, and profes-
sions. And this spirit pervaded the community until,
when called upon to furnish her quota of volunteer
troops for the defense of the South, more soldiers step-
ped out to the tap of the drum, and filed away to the
field, than there was left of the voting population at
home.

We have spoken of the gala days. The 4th of July
was the great day. The military and civic societies
paraded in the morning, and in the afternoon a public

46 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia

dinner, with refreshments solid and Hquid, was served,
either on the Poplar Lawn (now Central Park), or on
the island in the river, between the present locations
of the Norfolk & Western Railroad and the old com-
pany shops. A few weeks before the 4th of July a
meeting of the citizens was always called at the Court
House, and an orator was chosen to make the address
at the celebration of the 4th, and a reader to read the
Declaration of Independence.

Although I had not been a resident of the city quite
eighteen months, and was but little known, a friend of
mine, R. G. Pegram, a young attorney, as I was then
a young doctor, nominated me as orator for the 4th of
July, 1852. He had had the same honor conferred on
him the year preceding, and whether he desired to
share with me the laurels won by himself on that oc-
casion, or was moved by a spirit of mischief, I never
knew. However, I accepted the nomination. Lieu-
tenant Davidson, of the United States Navy, a brother
of the Misses Nora and Virginia Davidson, the well-
known educators of this city, and who, I suspect, are
among the few people left that will remember the occa-
sion, was appointed reader of the Declaration of Inde-
pendence. The exercises were held on Poplar Lawn.
A stand was erected under a large gum tree, still stand-
ing by the spring, and the amphitheatre above was fit-
ted with rows of seats in semicircles to the summit of
the hill. After the parade and the firing of the na-
tional salute the military was marched to the Lawn
and the orator and the reader were conducted to the
stand. On reaching the stand I found seated on the
rostrum Governor Johnson, then Governor of Virginia,
the Hon. R. K. Meade, the distinguished representative
in Congress from the Petersburg District, and several
other notables of the Commonwealth and of the city,
whilst occupying the seats in the amphitheatre — a great

Petersburg in the Fifties 47

part being ladies — and standing around the circle was a
great crowd, filling the air with patriotic huzzas. I saw
that 1 had an audience before me of more than a thou-
sand, looking into whose faces I could catch the eye
of few acquaintances and of fewer friends, whilst seated
behind nie were public men of great prominence who
had won forensic fame on many a hard-fought field.
The scene and the surroundings were sufficiently in-
spiring for any speaker, but for me they were rather
awe-inspiring and suggestive of an attack of stage
fright.

However, when Lieutenant Davidson had finished
the reading of the Declaration I gathered my trem-
bHng nerves together and advanced, on call of the mas-
ter of ceremonies, to the railing in front of the stand,
and, as soon as the applause which greeted my appear-
ance subsided, launched out into the patriotic strain
peculiar to that day. I was not quite so unaccustomed
to public speaking as some of my friends supposed, in
fact had often, in the four years of my collegiate course,
appeared before the public and aired my young eagles
in classic oratory of the schools, but I had never ap-
peared before an audience so large and on an occasion
so trying. Of course I did not dare to appear before
such an assembly of people unprepared. I was sure of
my ground, and took for my subject certain salient
points in Washington's Farewell Address, so, accus-
tomed to "thinking on my feet," — an art that young
men should acquire, — never faltered a minute for a
word. I had a manuscript buttoned up in the breast
of my uniform (I was an officer in the artillery), but
I had no recourse to it. Memory did not fail me.
And though I have not a fine or scratch of pen of one
word which I spoke on that day, yet I can as distinctly
remember my exordium as when it passed from my lips
more than half a century ago :

48 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Fellow Citizens :

Called by your too-partial kindness to play so conspicuous a part
in the celebration of this natal day of American Independence, you
must not expect me to wield any mighty weapon in this battled
arena upon which I am thrown. Poetry, painting, and eloquence
have exhausted their resources in commemorating this day; and I
am neither Homer, nor Apelles, nor Tully. I belong to a profes-
sion whose fame is not heard in the echoes of the forum, and
whose glories are not enshrined amid the records of forensic elo-
quence. I have only a mite to bring, but, as I lay it on the altar, I
pray that its incense may arise with the orisons that go up to-day
from ten thousand hearts to heaven that God would bless our coun-
try and perpetuate our institutions.

At the conclusion of this sentence there was a great
huzza, and an explosion of loud amens from a number
of worthy old patriots seated just before me, and on
looking down I saw the tears welling from their eyes.
Amongst the few that I knew I recognized old Major
Lyon, Capt. Daniel Butts, Capt. F. Rives, Rev. Mr.
Charlton, and one or two others. I saw at onpe that
I had my audience under my power, and the encourage-
ment was so full that I had no trouble as I proceeded,
but held their attention for nearly an hour, when I sat
down, overwhelmed by congratulations and deafened
by applause. One enthusiastic gentleman — now an old
man and a resident of New York — took me by the hand
and said, "It is well, young man, that you did not speak
in the old theatre to-day [the 4th of July oration was
sometimes delivered there when the weather was bad] ;
that applause would have shaken the house down."

I was greatly elated, of course, and have never
scored a success in any manner or time or place, in the
fifty years since, which gave me such unquahfied pleas-
ure.

Of course a copy of the address was asked for for
publication ; and then came forward two kindly men-
tors, sincere and common-sense friends, who said to
me: "No, do not print it. It will not read in print as

Petersburg in the Fifties 49

you spoke it. Besides, there was not so much in it
after all. You took the people by surprise, for they
did not expect so much of you, and they were agree-
ably disappointed. Let it end here, and don't let them
turn your head."

I accepted their counsel, knowing that it was wise,
and feeling that it was kind.

But that day's work was far-reaching in its results.
When, in a few years subsequently, political fires of
such fierceness were kindled in the community that the
whole social fabric felt their baleful force, and neigh-
bor and friend were separated from neighbor and friend,
and faces that before had only smiled on meeting now
scowled with hate, I was often called to the front ; and
on the hustings encountered many a throng which bore
no semblance to that crowd which I swayed and cap-
tured on that happy 4th of July, 1852. My meaning
will plainly appear when I write of Petersburg from
1854 to 1861.

In the meantime, let us return to Petersburg as it
was when I reached it in January, 1850. According
to Mr. E. S. Gregory ("Sketches of Petersburg," pub-
lished by Campbell & Co.), "no place in this country
excelled it for hospitality and liberality. She had a large
trade with European ports, which every day added to
her growth and wealth. Throughout the whole Union
her culture, her cordiality, and her enterprise were
commended of all men. The merchants of that day
were princes in their profession, exceeded by none for
their integrity, their foresight, and their boldness to
improve the legitimate opportunities for investment."
And these merchants represented every department of
trade and commerce. Old Street, as I recall it, was
crowded day by day with drays and wagons — country
wagons, not the frail and cheap creations of to-day,

painted red and marked made in some distant State,
4

50 Sci't'iity-fii'c Years in Old Plrginia

and sold by some home business arrangement ; but
high, long-bodied, covered with white canvas, in fact
regular schooners — ladeli not with small piles of loose
tobacco, but three great hogsheads weighing perhaps
1, 800 pounds apiece, or with an hundred sacks of corn
or wheat, and drawn by six stalwart horses, driven by
sable jehus, who, proud of their teams, proud of the
masters whom they represented, proud of the music
of the jingling bells on their leaders' necks, cracked
their long whips in glee, the embodiment of fat, well-
fed and contented labor. These wagons were all of
home manufacture, in the city or surrounding country,
and many of them by a sterling old citizen of Halifax
street — price $100; but the buyer could confidently
know that he got the worth of his money, the simple
inscription "Wells, Maker," being the only guarantee
asked or given. Old Mr. Wells — I suspect that few
men of to-day remember him ; if they do, they remem-
ber him as I do — faithful, honest, just and upright, was
the type of the mechanic in Virginia of the olden time :
and his work was the model work of a workman's
hands, not the shoddy output of machinery.

Among the merchants on Old Street who handled
these products from the planter's hand, and the factors
who bought and sold for him, and managed his town
business, w^as, as I recall the most prominent of them
Thomas Branch, general commission merchant, im-
porter of Peruvian guano, buyer of wheat in large quan-
tities for export or for sale, etc., who did probably the
largest business of the kind in .the city. Mr. Branch
was a portly man of fme appearance, cordial in manner,
hospitable, and charitable when convinced that the
charity was needed, lie was a great Methodist, and
for years was a power in the church. After the war,

Petersburg in the Fifties 51

Jjranch & Sons occupied the same location, and in the
early seventies removed to Richmond, where one of
the firm, Mr. J. P. Branch, still survives.

Another firm which I recall was Sturdivant, Hurt &
Co. These gentlemen did a large grocery and com-
mission business, selling great quantities of groceries
adapted to the wants of the surrounding country, and
handling on commission tobacco, wheat, corn, and, in-
deed, all the products of the planter in exchange. They
were active, popular, and of excellent credit, and com-
manded the confidence of their customers to the full-
est extent. One of this noted firm yet survives in the
person of our venerable and highly respected citizen
Mr. S. J. Hurt, though not now engaged in the same
business.

Then I can recall on this crowded street a number
of other commission merchants and grocers, amongst
them Peebles, White & Davis, Jones & Blunt, Hall &
Peebles, Heath & Mason, and Mr. Lewis Lunsford, a
manufacturer of and a very large dealer in whiskeys,
who lived on the south side of Old Street, about op-
posite Mr. Tarlton Heath's, and whose son has a large
feed and grain store on the same street now. On the
south side of the Market Square there were a number
of Israelitish citizens, dealers in general merchandise, —
A. Eichberg, the Cohens, Kulls, — some of whom, or
their sons, still survive the half century; and by the
thrift, industry, and business capacity peculiar to their
race now enjoy deserved prosperity. There were no
Jews at that time in business higher up town than the
house just below the present stand of Armstrong, the
druggist ; this was occupied by Marx Robinson, general
dealer. There were several families of EngHsh Jews,
the Davises, living on Bollingbrook Street. These
were not merchants, but were generally considered
rich.

52 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

There were not a great many stores on Bollingbrook
Street. Amongst the merchants who did business on
that street I readily recall Andrew Kevan & Brother.
These were millers, or rather manufacturers of flour,
doing a most extensive business, buying probably more
wheat in one year than is now brought to the city in
twenty years. Mr. Andrew Kevan, the elder partner,
was a most public-spirited citizen, taking great interest
in municipal affairs, and was, I think, the last mayor of
the city under the old regime, when the mayor was
selected by the council. Yet Mr. Kevan was not in
any measure a politician. lie lived to a very advanced
age, never losing his interest in public affairs, and keep-
mg to the last that which he merited — the confidence
and respect of his fellows.

On the northeast corner of Bollingbrook and Syca-
more Streets were Muir & Stevens, wholesale and re-
tail dealers in china, glass-ware, etc.; and adjoining
them the large shoe house of Drummond & Wyche.
Below them, on the opposite side, was Patrick Booth,
afterw^ards Booth & Grigg ; and at the southeast cor-
ner of Bollingbrook and Sycamore Streets J. H. Rob-
ertson, or Spotswood & Robertson, druggists ; and be-
low them on Bollingbrook Street, W. R. Wilkins, mer-
chant tailor, and Mr. Charles Loomis, merchant tailor ;
and next a lottery office kept by Mr. Granier* and a
large confectionery store by Peter Martin. Both of
these latter gentlemen had escaped from San Domingo
at the general massacre of the whites on that island,
and had cast their lots in the United States.

On Sycamore Street, on the west side, and opposite
Bollingbrook, were Daniel Perkinson & Co., saddlers
and dealers in harness ; and, passing up the street,
Bragg & Wilson, wholesale and retail druggists, oc-

*Sce Appendix.

Petersburg in the Fifties 53

cupying the stand now held by Wm. E. Armstrong &
Co., the location of perhaps the oldest drug stand in
the city, kept first by Colonel Bragg, then by Bragg &
Sons, then by Wm. Bragg, Jr., & Thomas, and then by
Bragg & Wilson. William Wilson will be remembered
by many of his old comrades of Co. E, 12th Virginia
Regiment. He was a genial, generous gentleman, ex-
empt by law from military service, but he joined the
army of Lee when the siege of Petersburg was begun,
and was killed at the Battle of Hatcher's Run, the bul-
let cutting the femoral artery. According to the in-
fantryman who stood next to him in line, Mr. George
S. Bernard, he died almost immediately.

Next above Bragg & Wilson came Abrams, Lyon
& Davis, large dry-goods merchants, mostly retail ; and
then Q. & L. Morton, hardware; and Dunn & Spencer,
hardware; and Peebles, White & Scott, dry-goods —
large assortment of staple and fancy dry-goods, did
large country trade; and Mr. John Bradbury, fine and
staple dry-goods for same trade ; and E. P. Nash, north-
west corner Sycamore and Bank Streets, books and
pianos and music, did a very large business. Mr. Nash
was a most excellent and enterprising gentleman, and
was one of the prime movers in founding the Peters-
burg Female College, the building now owned and oc-
cupied by Mr. Robert Gilliam. Of the seventeen orig-
inal trustees of the college, only one (myself) is living.

There was another book store kept by Col. J. C.
Swann, a gallant old Irish gentleman (on Bank Street,
I think) ; and another by Gaines & Riches, which I can
not locate. Mr. Riches — an uncle of Dr. Harwood —
still survives, in the nineties, the only survivor of the
firms whicli I have enumerated.

On the east side of Sycamore, between Bollingbrook
and Bank Streets, I can recall only three stores.
These were Echols & Hall, hats, etc. ; the large cloth-

54 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

ing house of Scott, Keen & Co. — the pioneer house for
ready-made clothing in the city; Thomas Nowlan,
jewelry, watches, etc. ; and at the northeast corner of
Sycamore and Lombard Streets, then called "Back"
Street, Charles Corling, druggist, successor of Brown
& Corling, a very old establishment. This corner was
known as "Corling's Corner" for many years.

Passing up Sycamore Street on the west were
Charles Lumsden, afterwards Stevens & Hopkins, jew-
elry, watches, silver-ware, etc. ; Thomas Royston,
clothing ; Brodnax, Tanner & Wright, retail dry-goods,
did a large town and country business ; Samuel Marks,
confectioner, who is yet alive, in his nineties; William
and Andrew Morgan, gunsmiths, etc. ; and John Pol-
lard, saddlery and harness.

On the east side of Sycamore Street, beginning at
Lombard, southeast corner, was Thomas H. Rosser,
druggist; then A. Bond (father of A. and Thos. Bond),
family grocery; higher up the extensive wholesale dry-
goods house of Paul & Mcllwaine ; and of John Steven-
son; and the wholesale house of Kerr & Marbury. glass-
ware and crockery, importers and extensive dealers ;
and the house of Peed & Parson, cabinet makers and
manufacturers of furniture generally; and Booth &
vSommers, and Turnbull, Morrison & Stone, grocers.
Of the latter firm Mr. R. T. Stone is the sole survivor.

Crossing to the west side of Sycamore Street again,
on the northwest corner was Mechanics' Hall ; and
crossing over West Tabb Street to the southwest
corner of Tabb and Sycamore was the large grocery
establishment of Mcllwaine, Brownley & Co., doing the
largest business in the city, and probably as large as
any in the State. Their building extended from the
corner to Powell's Hotel, which occupied the ground
recently covered by the Iron Front, Rosenstocks, etc.
Above Powell's Hotel was Ragland's Mule and Livery

Petersburg in the fifties 55

Stables, then came a long row of one-storied wooden
shanties, extending as far as St. Paul's Church, which
stood some forty or fifty feet back from the street about
the present location of Russell's confectionery,
Reinach's shoe store, etc. Between St. Paul's Church
and the northwest corner of Sycamore and Washing-
ton Streets were several stores, amongst them N. M.
Martin & Donnan, I think, grocers and commission
merchants. At this corner, now occupied by Beckwith
as a drug store, was the entrance to Centre Warehouse.
Returning to East Tabb Street and east side of Syca-
more, we find at the southeast corner Lea & Madison,
grocers, and Pitman & Cuthbert. Then passing up
the street we find a large and popular boarding-house,
kept by Mrs. Ariana Smith — to some extent a place
of overflow from Powell's Hotel, just opposite. Then
"Harness and Saddlery" by P. M. Steward; a most
worthy man, and an excellent merchant. Then there
were few or no houses, except West Hill Warehouse,
until getting to Franklin Street. At the southeast
corner of Franklin and Sycamore Streets was the resi-
dence of Rev. Minturn Thrift, whose premises and
garden extended along the east side of Sycamore to
Washington Street. Crossing Washington Street, on
the southeast corner of Washington and Sycamore
was an old wooden dwelling occupied by a German
family. In this family, some two or three years after-
wards, I saw the first case of diphtheria that I ever saw
or heard of, and perhaps the first case, or amongst the
first, of that disease which had been reported since
]757. It soon made itself known to us, however, and
for several years subsequently pervaded the city and
made sad havoc amongst the people. It did not con-
fine itself especially to children, but claimed its victims
amongst young and old.

56 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia

Following Sycamore Street on the east side there
were only two or three houses intervening below Wash-
ington and Wythe Streets — one the old brick house,
yet standing, and bearing marks of indisputable anti-
quity. This w^as owned and occupied by a gentleman
named Weeks, and had been used as a tavern, though
it was not used for that purpose in 1850-51. Passing
Mr. John Dunn's residence there was not another
house on the east side of Sycamore between his house
and Marshall Street. The whole of the square between
the alley running just north of the Petersburg Club
House and Marshall Street on the south, and between
Adams Street on the east and Sycamore Street on the
west, was open, with the exception of the old brick
house now standing at the northeast corner of the alley
and Adams Street, and was occupied by a Scotchman
named McKinsie as a fiower garden.

But we have followed this line far enough for our pur-
pose. The growth of the city, counted by houses,
since 1850 has been wonderful. A good part of South
Market Street, almost all of West Washington, from
South Street; the whole of the square between Wash-
ington on the north and Shepherd Street on the south ;
and South Street on the east, and Dunlop Street on the
west, was a vacant lot. The square on the opposite
side of W^est Washington Street, bounded by it on the
south, by Pearl Street on the north, by South Street
on the east, and Dunlop Street on the west, was vacant,
with the exception of two or three old wooden shanties
on Washington Street — in fact almost all of what is
now the western part of the city has been built up since
1850, yet the census of 1900 shows only an increase in
population of 7,000 in those fifty years. It is simply in-
credible.

The hotels of the city have not increased in number
pari passu with other buildings and with the population.

Petershiivg in tJic Pifties 57

The principal hotels of that day were three. There
was "Powell's," occupying the locality where the "Iron
Front" stood, and kept by Mr. Wm. N. Friend, the fa-
ther of our respected fellow citizen, Mr. Alfred Friend.
This house was mostly patronized by the people of
Brunswick, Lunenburg, Mecklenburg, Nottoway, Din-
widdle and Amelia Counties, and by people who came
to the city by private conveyance from the southside
country. There were large stables belonging to the
hotel for the care of the horses of the visitors. "The
accommodation for man and beast," in parlance of that
time, was of the first class. The menu was the menu
of the table of the old Virginia country gentleman, and
the cuisine and the service could not be surpassed. The
dishes were not brought in by detail, nor the contents
served in dabs around your plate. When the guest ap-
peared at the table he saw before him what there was
to eat (the table was long, and not in sections or divis-
ions), and a willing servant stood ready to cater to his
choice of food.

At this period almost every one — ladies and gentle-
men— was served at the table d'hote; but when, as a
boy, I first became acquainted with this house, visiting
it with my father and family, when ladies were of the
party, we did not sit at the public table, but had a suite
of rooms, of which one was always the dining-room.
The genius of this room was a courteous old darky,
whose bald pate was as polished as his manner, and I
shall never forget his reverential obeisance as he took
orders for what he should provide for the next meal.
Contented, cheery, happy old Sam, — a slave if you
choose to call him so — he filled his place perfectly in his
day and generation, and passed away, his dust to
mingle with the dead of the fine ladies and gallant gen-

58 Sc'i'ciity-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia

tlemen whom he delighted to serve, and who loved to
reward and honor him. Man and master, the like, or
better, can never be reproduced.

And there were Sam's fellow servants, John Boiling
and Sam Boiling, having charge of the rooms of the
guests; and Bob Clark in the dining-room, who, with
his savings, bought his freedom and opened a livery
stable on Lombard Street ; and old Jacob, the porter or
omnibus man ; and others whose names I can not re-
call— all men whose urbanity, whose faithfulness, and
whose integrity might well be copied now by many
who look upon their lives as the memories of a degrad-
ed humanity.

Another of the principal hotels was ''Jarratt's" ; still
/;/ situ, but changed in all else. This was kept by John
Jarratt, a born boniface, Avho knew his business, and
who attended to it. His house was always full, and was
the hostelry chiefly of the people who came to town
by railroad from Greenesville County, Northampton
County, and the counties contiguous to the Petersburg-
Railroad ; and from North Carolina, whose citizens at
that time formed a large contingent of those who came
to Petersburg on business or for pleasure. The termi-
nus of the Petersburg Railroad was at the Union
Street Depot. There the passengers left the train, and
those wishing to remain in the city found convenient
quarters, and comfortable, withal, at "Jarratt's."' Those
wishing to go farther north were hurried into a long
omnibus, and behind four horses were driven rapidly
to Pocahontas, where the train of the Richmond &
Petersburg Railroad awaited them. 'JMie driver was
one Plenry, a sable personage, but a master of the reins,
and with evident pride in his exalted position on the
box. I have seen him recently on our streets, but age
and freedom have evidently not dealt very kindly witli
him, and one would hardlv recognize in his attenuated

Petersburg in the Fifties 59

form the stately jehu who rattled his pampered team
over our rough pavements fifty years ago.

The other principal hotel was the "Bollingbrook,"
also still /;/ situ, and kept well by a worthy man at pres-
ent ; but he who remembers it in the pride of its past
feels now, as he treads its corridors, that he

"Treads alone some banquet hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead.
And all but he departed."

It was kept at that time by Dr. John Minge, a gen-
tleman of the olden school, and who knew how to keep
a hotel for gentlemen. It was mostly patronized by the
people in the lower counties — Prince George, Sussex,
Surry, Southampton, Isle of Wight; by the people
"down the river." It was constantly filled, especially
by those on pleasure bent, but its great season was the
time of the New Market Races. Virginia at that pe-
riod, as it had been for many years, was the home of the
race-horse and its race tracks were the theatres for the
display and for the triumphs of some of the finest
coursers which this country has ever produced.
Eclipse, Red Eye, Sir Charles, Arabian, Lusborough,
Virginius, Baslona, and Andretta were names as fa-
miliar to the public as the names of the most prominent
politicians and statesmen. Mr. Otway P. Hare, lately
deceased in his nineties, was the owner of the New
Market grounds, and the owner of some of the finest
horses which contended for the prizes, and which won
them. At his beautiful home, situate on the hill above
the race track, he kept open house, and dispensed the
most generous and lavish hospitality. At such times
he had for his guests the most famous turfmen of the
country, and his stables were the homes of their stock.
But the "Bollingbrook" gathered the hundreds who
came to the annual display and the annual sport, and
"beauty and chivalry" filled its famous halls.

6o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

There were other hotels of minor importance in the
city. One at the corner of Old and Short Market
Streets; another at the corner of the Old A'larket
Square ; another on Second Street, below the "Boiling •
brook," on the opposite side. These were cheap tav-
erns for the accommodation of people of moderate
means. And there were two taverns outside of the
corporation, in Dinwiddle County — one at the junction
of the Squirrel Level Road and the Court-House Road,
at the house now occupied by Mr. Steere; and one at
the junction of the Court-House Road and Cox Road.
The latter was a long, rambling house of two stories,
with a portico running its whole length, and was known
by the distinctive title of the "Long 'Onery' " ("Ordi-
nary"), a term formerly applied to any house where the
meals were furnished at a common table. Planters
coming. from the country traversed by the roads be-
fore mentioned would time their arrival at these houses
so that they could spend the night under their hospi-
table roofs, and going into town after early breakfast
attend to their business and return to their quarters at
night, so as to get an early start for their homes the
following morning.

At the tavern on Second Street I had a professional
adventure which came near proving a very serious one
for me. I was summoned one morning after breakfast
to see a guest at this hotel, and on going to the office
and enquiring for the room of my patient I was ad-
dressed by a burly, red-headed man at my side, who
informed me that he was the person who wished to ."^ee
me, and he invited me to his room. On getting there
he commenced to ask me a number of desultory and
irrelevant questions as to where I was born, where I
was educated, whether I had ever matriculated at a
school in Berlin or Vienna, how long I had remained
there, etc., until I became impatient and said to him

Petersburg in the Fifties 6i

that if he wished to see me professionally I would talk
with him, but that I was busy, and if he had nothing
more important to say to me 1 would leave. "No/" he
answered, "you can't leave. I have something very im-
portant to say to you; but this room is not sufficiently
private." He then ushered me into an interior and ad-
joining room, and locking the door put the key in his
pocket. This room was bare of furniture, except a
large, heavy bench, upon which he motioned me to be
seated. Standing betore me, he told me that he was
from Richmond; that he had gone to the confessional
that morning before leaving, but that there was some-
thing on his mind which he wished to confess to me
alone. Still a little annoyed and impatient, I replied,
"Let us have it then." Said he, "i am in love." 1
was not in the humor to be amused by what I supposed
were the fancies of a drunken man, and quickly said,
"Open that door; we have had enough ot this." He
replied that he would only open that door after he had
obtained the object for which he had sent for me.
"Well, what is it," I said. He rephed, "I am informed
that you brought with you from abroad a formula for a
medicine by the administration of which you can make
any woman love you whom you wish to win." I answer-
ed, "1 am tired of this egregious folly," and was about
to seek the door and force it, when he stopped me, say-
ing, "I was prepared for this, and am prepared to en-
force my demands," showing at the same time a very
ugly revolver. I saw then that I was dealing with a mad-
man, a powerful man with whom I could not cope in
strength, and I recognized at once that I would have
to resort to strategy to rescue myself, so I replied :
"What you have remarked is true. I have a prescrip-
tion for a love powder which will accomplish all that
you wish, but I have never shown it or acknowledged
it to any living being before. It is simply priceless ;

62 Seveniy-iii'c Years in Old Virginia

but you have me in your power, and if you choose to
rob me of it I have no means of preventing you." To
this he answered: "I do not propose to rob you. I
can pay you, and propose to pay you your full price ;
but it is well for vou to understand that I am ooinc- to
have it, if I have to resort to violence to secure it."
"All right," I said, "put up your pistol. Do you read
Latin?" "No," he replied. I then wrote a prescrip-
tion for a most powerful depressant emetic, in two
powders; told him to take one, and to administer the
other to his enamorata when he returned to Richmond.
I thought it possible he might summon a boy and send
for it and take it whilst he kept me in durance, but had
he done so I should have had no fear of him in fifteen
minutes after he swallowed it. However, he simply put
the formula in his pocket and opened the door, and I
lost no time in leaving the room. He followed me, and
when we reached the office an oflicer was awaiting
him, and immediately took him in charge, informing
me that he was an escaped lunatic. The officer politely
inquired if I had any charges against him or wished to
detain him. "No charges," I said, "and I beg that you
will not think of detaining him a minute on my ac-
count." 1 did not even give away the love powder
story, and could not help hoping that my lunatic would
get a little of it before he reached his destination.

In enumerating the business houses of note on the
various streets, 1 omitted to note the establishment of
the Leonards, on Old Street, south side, who had a
hardware and gun store. It is now greatly enlarged,
and conducted by the surviving brother, Mr. Charles
Leonard, on Bank Street. On the same side of the
street was the saddle and harness manufactory by Mr.
B. P. Harrison, a most worthy and excellent Christian
man. And on Short Market Street there was a car-
riage manufactory, by 'Mw Slaughter; and on Bank

Petersburg in the Fifties 63

Street another by Mr. Camp ; and on Sycamore Street,
near West Hill Warehouse, another by Mr. Pope ; and
on South Sycamore Street, just where the Lewises now
have their extensive business, was still another carriage
factory by Mr. Atkinson. These mechanics served
their day and generation with faithful, honest work,
and no man was compelled to go North or elsewhere to
find a handsome or substantial vehicle. Good, substan-
tial oak or hickory stock they used, without the plaster
of veneer or putty; and their work might have 1:)een
likened to the work of the one-horse shay of Dr.
Holmes, warranted to run an hundred years and a day.

There were in different portions of the city the es-
tablishments of such mechanics and contractors in brick
or wood as Major Daniel Lyon, Mr. Beverly Drink-
ard, W. H. Baxter, Lumsden & Shedden, Traylor &
Peterson, and others whom I can not recall.

Of the sons of Tubal-Cain, — workers in brass and
iron, — Tappey & Lumsden. at the old stand, still kept
up on ^Vashington Street ; and Uriah Wells, who
might be called the father of the foundries here, a
man no less noted for his mechanical genius than for
his rugged countenance, and his incorruptible integrity.
His place of business was just where Dunlop's Factory
now stands.

Tobacco, the staple and money crop of the surround-
ing country then, was a prime article of manufacture in
the city, and the source of her wealth and prosperity.
Mr. David Dunlop (not the person who owns and con-
ducts a factory now on Old Street) occupied almost a
s({uare between the lower part of Bollingbrook and
Lombard Streets with his elegant house and capacious
factories ; Messrs. Osborne and Chieves occupied the
factory on the corner of Washington and Jefiferson
Streets now owned and occupied by Mr. John H. Mac-
lin; Mr. Robert Leslie, the uncle of Messrs. \Vatson

64 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

and McGill, occupied the factory on Washington Street
now owned and occupied by them; Mr. Reuben Rag-
land had a large factory at the corner of Washington
Street and Jones' Road, and Messrs. Williamson &
Venable, young men, who had just come to Petersburg
to try their fortunes, occupied a factory at the Basin,
on the locality now occupied by Mr. J. E. Routh as a
basket and crate factory. Large quantities of tobacco
were then brought down in hogsheads on batteaux —
long boats — by the river and canal, and the location
was a most convenient one for a tobacco factory. Mr.
J. P. Williamson, the Williamson of that firm, and one
of our most respected and valued citizens, rtill survives,
and doubtless holds in kindly memory the halcyon days
and nights made merry by the old boatmen of the y\p-
pomattox batteaux.

Messrs. McEnery and McCulloch owned and occu-
pied a factory on Washington Street, at the corner of
Guarantee, and did a large business ; and the Camer-
ons owned and occupied a large factory on Perry
Street, though not exactly at the location of their pres-
ent factory.

Twelve years later the most of these buildings were
devoted to very different objects. Large, airy, and well
ventilated, they were admirably suited for hospitals,
and in the spring of 1862 were hired or impressed for
that purpose, and were soon filled with sick or wound-
ed soldiers. The peaceful art of manufacture had given
place to the cruel art of war, and instead of the songs
of the dusky operatives at their cheerful work were
heard only the groans of the sick or the cries of those
who had been wounded in battle. The surgeon had
assumed the position of the manager, and many of the
colored employees were utilized as nurses and servants,
and with the imitativeness, the docility, and kindHness
of the slave, soon became as useful as they had been in

Petersburg in the Pifties 65

their legitimate employment. One of these factories—
that of the Camerons — was named the North Carolina
Hospital; another — that of Osborne & Chieves, now
Maclin's — was named the South Carolina Hospital;
and another — that of Robert Leslie's, on Washington
Street, now Watson & McGill's — was named the Vir-
ginia Hospital; but they were all organized by order
of the Confederate Government, The general orders
were that the soldiers of these States, when brought to
the city sick or wounded, should be assigned to the
respective hospitals bearing the name of their States —
which were mostly under charge of surgeons from
those States — for the sake of convenience and of com-
radeship; and this was done so far as practicable, but
not fully, as the exigencies of the service made it often
impossible. — )

The only other factories at this period of any import-
ance, or which contributed to any extent to the public
interest, were the cotton factories — Matoaca, Ettrick,
Battersea, Petersburg Mills, Swift Creek, and Mer-
chants' Mills. These factories represented a capital of
between $800,000 and $1,000,000, and employed be-
tween 800 and 1,000 hands, — white, all of them, — with
a monthly pay roll of about $10,000 or $12,000, and
average capacity for turning out sheeting and cotton
yarns, etc., of about 200,000 yards per week. This was
no inconsiderable industry for the period and for this
section. Manufactories in the South employing white
operatives were but few, and these in Petersburg, for
the few years during which they had been established,
were considered a God-send to the poorer classes of
people in the city and the surrounding counties, en-
abling "-hem to secure a decent livlihood, which it was
difficult to do by agricultural pursuits, where all the
best lands were tilled by planters owning their own la-
bor, who had no necessity to hire other help, even had
5

66 Sez'cnty-^z'e Years in Old Virghiia

] pride of race and caste permitted the white man to
/_ labor in the fields by the side of the negro slave.

Now to conduct the various business pursuits and
industries to which we have referred, necessitated capi-
tal and money accommodation. This was furnished by
men — public-spirited citizens — of fortune, and by the
banks. There were three banks in the city at that time.
as there are three now — the Exchange Bank, on Bank
Street ; George W. Boiling, president ; Pat Durkin,
cashier. The Farmers Bank, on Bollingbrook Street ;
Wm. Robertson, president ; Pleasant Osborne, cash-
ier. And The Bank of Virginia, on Bank Street; Jo-
seph Bragg, president ; George W. Stainback, cash-
ier. I do not know what amount of capital was invest-
ed in these banks or what amount of deposits was re-
ceived and utilized by them. They were what were
known at that time as State Banks, being banks both
of issue and deposit, and their notes of issue were of
unexceptionally good credit. Considering the very
heavy business which was transacted, not only with the
city people, but with the people of the surrounding
counties, all of which were then rich and prosperoi's,
we take it for granted that their financial condition was
about that of the three banks of to-day ; if so, their
aggregate capital — stock and undivided profits — must
have been about $750,000, their aggregate deposits
about $1,850,000, and their gross assets about $2,600,-
000, which would have enabled them to do an annual
volume of business of $75,000,000 to $100,000,000, not
far, I suspect, from the true condition of things.

We have no accurate knowledge — that is, no knowl-
edge from statistics compiled at the time — of the
amount of money used directly and indirectly in
the tobacco trade, but assuming that at least as much
tobacco was produced in the surrounding counties trib-
utary to Petersburg at that period as is produced now,

Petersburg in the Fifties 6y

and that as much was brought to this market then as
is brought now, — by no means a violent assumption, —
we shall count fifteen millions of pounds annually
bought by manufacturers and shippers. This at an
average of eight cents a pound would have required an
expenditure of $1,200,000 passing through first hands. _
Then, as now, this tobacco was manufactured for ex- j
port and for domestic purposes. And the average num-
ber of hands employed in all branches of the trade was
about 3,000, with aggregate wages of about $500,000.
Tobacco, not cotton, was king in Petersburg in 1850,
And to-day, according to the reports of the Internal
Revenue office, 80 per cent, of all the tobacco exported
from the United States is exported from Petersburg;
and when the annual revenue receipts from Petersburg
are $4,000,000 — we may say that tobacco is yet king.

There were at that time, it is true, two or three grist
mills — corn and wheat, of the latter notably the Eagle
Mills, and the Kevan Mills, which turned out annually
thousands of barrels of flour, not only for home con-
sumption, but for export. But the great industrial
interests were tobacco and commerce.

The financial condition of the city was most satisfac-
tory. According to Mr. E. S. Gregory in his "Sketch
of the History of Petersburg,"' "the annual revenue of
the town was $20,000 and the annual expenditures
about the same." "And yet," remarks the same author,
"the long-headed citizens were said to be greatly con-
cerned for fear the town should go to protest and its
credit be forever impaired." The rate of taxation was
what might be called nominal at this day. During the
same year, however, the town was authorized by a vote
of the people to subscribe $200,000 to the stock of the
Southside Railroad, and the Treasurer of Virginia was
required to guarantee the town bonds for the benefit
of the Southside Railroad to the amount of $323,000,

68 Seventy-fire Years in Old Virginia

and the ''Town" was required to mortgage its whole
property to indemnify the State as security. This was
the commencement of the creation of a debt, which by
subsequent expenditures and subsequent issues of
bonds for municipal and other improvements amounts
to-day to $1,261,000.

To that day there had been mostly unsalaried offices,
and the same rigid economy exercised by those who
had the care and oversight of public affairs which they
showed in the conduct of their private affairs. In ad-
dition, the exchequer was in the hands of men who held
and who owned the property responsible for every out-
lay of town expenditure, and manhood suffrage had not
brought to the surface the hoi polloi who were not so
particular about contracting a debt for the discharge or
which the tax-gatherer could find no visible assets.
What mattered it to Thomas, or Richard, or Henry
(late Tom, Dick, or Harry) that his vote should fasten
upon the corporation an obligation which he could not
be called upon to liquidate! What mattered it that he
voted for a scheme involving an hundred, or a thousand,
or a million of dollars ! He would not be expected to
fumble in his pockets for a dime of the principal or in-
terest. But this is old fogyism — worse, it is rank
heresy to the new regime and to the eminent domain
of young America. On the hustings the wily politician
had told the new citizen that brawn and bone were the
bulwarks of the State, and that without regard to ma-
terial or mental condition ; that he was always called
upon to do the labor of the State, and to fight the bat-
tles of the State ; and that his voice should be heard in
shaping the destiny of the State, especially when des-
tiny called for the elevation of said politician to a place
of honor or profit.

Under the new regime the monetary and municipal
matters of the city have undergone a marvelous

Petersburg in the Fifties 69

change. One can scarcely realize it. The salaried offi-
cers of the city now are — mayor, $1,200; chief of po-
lice, $850; one heutenant, $700; two sergeants, $600
each, and twenty-two privates at $50 per month each,
a grand total of $15,950 per annum for 1900. Compare
this with the mayor, or Squire Patterson, poHce jus-
tice, of no salary; and Billy Fenn and Billy WilHams,
poHcemen, of $500 per annum each in 1850!

Nor does the sum of $15,950 include the salaries of
city attorney, judge of the Hustings Court, auditor of
accounts, treasurer, and commissioner of the revenue.
The total expenditures for the fiscal year ending June
30th, 1900, were $284,165, and total receipts were
$264,762. Compare these figures with Mr. Gregory's
estimate of $20,000 expenditures and $20,000 receipts
in 1850, and then consider that the population of the
city has only increased during that period of half a cen-
tury about 8,000, and we must conclude that "the world
do move," the Rev. John Jasper's opinion to the con-
trary notwithstanding.

The fear of the fathers, however, that the city's credit
would suffer and that she would be forced into bank-
ruptcy has not yet materialized. On her bonded debt
she pays only an average of a little more than five per
cent, and finds no difficulty in sellng new bonds at par
carrying an interest of five per cent. She, therefore, is
far from being insolvent yet. And she not only finds
no difficulty in realizing a levy of $1.60 on the whole of
the real and personal property of her citizens, but she
has solved a difficulty which the United States Govern-
ment has not been able to cope with, viz : she can find
and tax the income of the citizen. There is but one
fraud perpetrated on her revenue which I am told that
she has never been able to prevent — a man can expend
the whole of his cash and utilize all of his credit in the
purchase of United States bonds on the day before he

Seventy-Hvc Years in Old Virginia

gives in his list of taxables, and sell them again two
days afterwards, he never having seen the bonds in the
meantime, they never leaving the broker's hands, but
not being taxable he has listed no taxable property.
If no one of my many readers has ever been guilty of
this little cheat, then him have I not offended.

The churches of the city have increased in the num-
ber of their edifices 50 per cent since 1850; but whether
pari passu in the number of the communicants, I have
no means of knowing.* I think it certain that there
has been a decided change in their regular denomina-
tional numbers. The Baptists were then a feeble folk,
worshiping in only one small church, at the corner of
Market and High Streets, Rev. J. R. Reynoldson, pas-
tor. In 1854 he was succeeded by Rev. H. S. Keen,
an estimable gentleman and an able preacher. Mr.
Keen remained pastor until 1863. In the meantime the
old church had been given up and congregation and
pastor transferred to the church on Washington Street
now known as First Baptist, the building of which was
begun in 1853, but was not completed for perhaps sev-
eral years. In 1863 Mr. Keen resigned.

In June, after Lee's surrender, this church was
struck by lightning and burned to the ground. It was
an exceedingly dark night, and the large ball near the
summit of the steeple, burning slowly at first, seemed
to those in the distance a great globe of fire in the firm-
ament. I had lately returned to the city from my wan-
derings after the war, and occupied a rented room in
the third story of a house on Bank Street. It was about
II or 12 o'clock at night when I was aroused by my
landlady rattling my bolt very vehemently and calling

*The aggregate membership of the Baptist churches of Peters-
burg was reported to the Portsmouth Association in 1850 at 318; in
igoo to the same Association 1244. And other denominations can
show the same increase.

Petersburg in the fifties yi

to me in the most excited manner, "Get up, Doctor,
get up ! The planet Mars is on fire, and Judgment Day
has come !" With such a startling announcement I lost
iio time in getting up and rushing to the window to sat-
isfy myself in reference to the great catastrophe. And
forsooth nothing could be seen from my position but
an immense globe of fire, seemingly in the heavens, and
nothing visible near it. I really could form no idea of
what the phenomena meant, but thought it best to put
on my clothes and make myself presentable and ready
for any event. By the time I was dressed, however,
the fire had made such headway that the roof of the
church had caught and the illumination made the true
condition of things apparent.

The city was filled, not only with Confederate sol-
diers returned from fields and prison, but with Federal
soldiers, a number of whose regiments had been de-
tained here, and some effort was made, the Federals as-
sisting, to extinguish the flames, but with no regular
fire organization — the city had not yet settled down to
municipal order — nothing could be done, and the edi-
fice was soon in ashes. But the planet Mars was saved.

The congregation worshiped in Mechanics' Hall until
the present beautiful church was completed, having
successively as pastors Rev. Mr. Keene, Rev. T. H.
Prichard, Rev. W. G. Hatcher, Rev. T. T. Eaton, Rev.
Mr. Dargan, all faithful and fearless, yet exceptionally
beloved and popular, and at the present time the dis-
tinguished divine and eloquent pulpit orator Dr. PI. W.
Battle, under whose administration the church grows
and flourishes.

There were two Methodist churches in Petersburg
in 1 85 1, one the Washington Street Church and the
other the High Street Church, both standing yet in the
same locality. The former was the outcome or over-
flow of the old Union Street Church, now occupied by

^2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

one of the colored Methodist congregations in the city.
Washington Street Church* might probably be called
the mother church of the Methodist churches of Pe-
tersburg, as from it went out the other Methodist con-
gregations, now numbering some four or five. The
membership at that time was 666, and the church was
probably the largest and the wealthiest, and the most
influential in the city. Mr. D'Arcy Paul was the leader
of the choir and the leader of the church. Tall, erect,
dignified, commanding in figure, he was noted in man-
ner, not only in the church, but upon 'Change, and
more noted for his great generosity, his liberal charity,
and a character so pure that the Evil One himself
would have been ashamed of an attempt to smirch it.
He lived long, a useful, public-spirited citizen, success-
ful in business, amassing a fortune which he did not re-
serve to be distributed amongst others, as so many doj
when he could no longer enjoy it for his own pleasure ;
but acting as his own almoner and executor, he placed
it in his lifetime where vain folly could not garner it
nor moths corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal
it.

The T. C. Paul's Female Orphan Asylum, founded
by himself, cared for by himself when living, and de-
pendent mostly upon his endowment for its present
support, is a monument to his name and an inscription
to his memory which time cannot destroy or efface.
This institution was in its infancy in January, 1851, and

*At the close of the conference year 1850 the membership of the
Washington Street Church was reported as 666, and at the close of
the conference year igoo the membership was reported as 575. Of
the 666 reported in 1850, 230 were males, and of this number nine
only are alive. For this information I am indebted to one of the
nine, Mr. J. W. Bradbury, who can be relied upon for his figures,
or for anything else which he endorses. Eight years afterwards, in
1^5^. 'iii members of the church were transferred to Market Street
Church, forming the nucleus of that congregation; of that number
we can trace only some six or eight living at this time.

Petersburg in the Fifties yi)

had been erected and endowed by Mr. Paul in memory
of a promising young son whom he had lost, and who
requested of his father before his death that the portion
of his patrimony coming to him might be devoted to
the erection of a home for homeless young girls. Hun-
dreds of young girls have been housed and reared there,
and many of them are worthy, respected mothers and
grandmothers, filling honorable and useful places in
life, who would otherwise have grown up in ignorance
and vice. And their example and influence have gone
out with them from that Home and have led others
who were astray into paths of virtue and peace. I am
personally cognizant of these facts, and I am sure that
only eternity can reveal the wide-spreading, far-reach-
ing power for good which the pious request of that
dying boy has accomplished.

The Rev. Nelson Head was the pastor of the church
at the time referred to, a plain, practical, godly man,
and a preacher of sound doctrine as he saw it — a man
"who never placed a flower of earthly sort about the
sacred text." And after him, Anthony Dibrell, a
Boanerges, catching his inspiration from Sinai, and
with impassioned eloquence "persuading men" with the
"terrors of the law." Transferred to Norfolk a few
years after, he fell at his post, serving his people faith-
fully during the terrible scourge of yellow fever which
swept over that devoted city in the summer of 1855.

After him came Jno. E. Edwards, polished, brilliant,
versatile, eloquent, attracting large congregations to
his church, and gathering great numbers of friends at
his fireside. And then— but the rotating pastorate, the
law and the genius of the Methodist people is such that
it is difficult to trace from memory the successive min-
isters who filled the pulpit. I can recall, however, the
Duncans, James and David, brothers — the former pos-
sessing powers of oratory which commanded and

74 Scz'ciity-fii'c Years in Old Virginia

kindled any audience, whether he spoke from the pulpit
or the rostrum; the latter, a loving, pious man, a good
preacher and a good pastor, whom the church elected
to the bishopric a few years subsequently; and Charles
H. Hall, who died in 1872 whilst serving a pastorate
term for that church, and whose death is commemor-
ated by a tablet on its walls near the pulpit from which
he so often preached to the people. His life is com-
memorated in the hearts of hundreds of all classes and
of all religious associations, w'ho loved to linger and
listen to the choice language in which he propounded
the law or plead mercy, and feeling in his soul the mo-
mentous import of his message, besought them as an
ambassador of God to be reconciled to Him. The
highest and the humblest waited equally upon his
words, and I have recently heard one of his humble
auditors say that "Charley Hall could preach all around
any preacher of the day."

Many men — good, true, faithful, learned, and earnest
— have follow'ed him in the same pulpit and in other
pulpits of the city, but it is a matter of remark that they
do not draw now as they did some years ago.

Perhaps the pew is as much to blame as the pulpit ;
the forward impetuous rush of the time for riches, the
great reward of wealth which awaits the zealous work-
er, and the astute speculator, have left men but little
leisure to look after interests eternal, it is true, but too
far off, and with no present prospect of yielding any
good.

The churches were, most of them, at Sabbath ser-
vice, both morning and night, filled. This was es-
pecially true of St. Paul's Episcopal Church on Syca-
more Street, and of the Methodist church on Washing-
ton Street, of which we are writing. It was no uncom-
mon thing for chairs and benches to be brought into
the aisles of the latter church, c\-en on ordinary occa-

Petersburg in the Piftics 75

sions, to accommodate the people. This was often true
in reference to Market Street Church, which, in 1857-
'58, had been built as an overflow from Washington
Street. This was a pewed church for some ye^rs, and
was called the church of the Methodist aristocracy.
Dr. J. E. Edwards, before referred to, was the first pas-
tor, and indeed its founder, as is attested by a mural
tablet near the pulpit. Some able men followed him
in the revolving pastorate, among them Revs. Sledd.
Langhorn, Judkins, Garland, Granbery, and other^-.
Rev. Granbery, now an eminent prelate and bishop of
the church, was a classmate of mine at college. After
a three-years curriculum we took the graduating de-
gree A. B., and curiously enough our record summed
to the same number and entitled us both to the first
honor. The faculty, in determining between us, resort-
ed to the old device of drawing straws. Granbery got
the long straw, and, forsooth, has kept it through life.
This I have referred to before.

There were only two Episcopal churches in Peters-
burg in January, 1851. One, St. Paul's, on Sycamore
Street, some forty or fifty feet back from the street, on
the west side, and located where Russell's confection-
ery and Reinach's shoe store now stand. This
church was the outcome of the congregation of the old
Blandford Church, the congregation having removed
to Petersburg in 1802, and worshiped in a small brick
building situated on what is known now as the Court-
House Hill. This church was enlarged and rebuilt in
1806, and answered the purpose, according to Bishop
Meade, "until 1839, when a larger and more expensive
one was erected in a more convenient place." This re-
fers to the church on Sycamore Street, we presume, as
we find that it was consecrated by Bishop Moore on the
5th of April, 1839.

76 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia

This congregation was under the pastorate of Rev.
Andrew Syme from 1794 to 1839, forty-five years. "Old
Parson Syme," as I have so often heard my mother
speak of him, must have been a man of varied accom-
pHshments, of rare grace, and of great good sense to
have retained his hold upon the people for so long a
time.

The church was under the charge of Rev. Horace
Stringfellow at the time to which I have referred, Jan-
uary, 1 85 1. He was a grave and godly man of patri-
archial appearance, without any of the arts of oratory,
but sound in doctrine, and "rightly dividing the word
of truth" as he saw the truth. He resigned in 1855,
since which time the church has had in the forty-five
years intervening, eight successive pastors, all of whom,
excepting Rev. W. H. Piatt, from 1856 to 1865, the
Rev. Bishop Winfield, from 1865 to 1875, and Rev. C.
R. Hains, from 1875 to 1895, have served but brief pas-
torates. As Dr. Piatt and Dr. Winfield have both
passed beyond the reach of praise or censure, and as
the personal friend and trusted physician of both, I
had especial opportunity of knowing them, not only as
clergymen, but outside of the sacred desk ; it pleases
me to write of them as I knew them, and to render such
witness to their worth as my humble words can carry.

Dr. Piatt was a man of versatile genius, and had led
quite a checkered life — a lawyer in its beginning, a sol-
dier in its prime, and in his maturer and better years, a
minister of the gospel of peace. In all these offices, and
in the duties incident to them, he measured up to the
full standard of manhood. He came to the church in
this city in troublous times, his pastorate covering the
eventful period of 1853 to 1865. His influence for
good, not only as a clergyman, but as a citizen and as
a patriot was marked. In the dark days of i864-'65,
when the merciless and barbarous shelling of the city

Petersburg in tJte Fifties yy

from the enemy's lines, which encircled it, made it per-
ilous for the congregations to gather in the churches,
and public religious services had been well-nigh aband-
oned, he addressed a letter of protest to General
Meade against such vandalism, and an appeal to him
as a Christian soldier to stop the war, at least against
worship and against women and children, of whom the
worshipers mostly consisted; and to leave to them the
sanctity of the Sabbath, one day's respite of the seven,
from the unnecessary cruelties of the siege. This let-
ter had the desired effect ; from that day to the end of
the siege there was no more firing on Sunday, and from
that day there was peace in the city on the Sabbath.

As a preacher. Dr. Piatt was graceful, classic, and
eloquent ; as a pastor he was gentle, sympathizing, and
loving. His mind was cultivated, vigorous, and grasp-
ing, and its versatility wonderful.* From the deepest
problems in philosophy and in the subtlest metaphys-
ics, in which he delighted and of which he was
no ordinary master, he could drift into poetry of
the most perfect measure and of the sweetest
minstrelsy. Indeed, it may be said of him that
he was preacher, poet, and philosopher. In his in-
tercourse with his fellow-men he had a charm of man-
ner that was almost magnetic ; and though pronounced
in his own views, he trespassed upon no man's opinion,
his theology, or his politics. Hence he was always
popular.

The pastorate of Rev. Dr. Winfield extended from
1868 to 1875, when he was made Bishop of California.
Dr. Winfield was a man of deep piety, dignified in man-
ner, not easily approachable by any one, of most pro-
nounced opinion, which he held, and was capable of

*In the above sketch of Dr. Piatt I am plagiarizing from an
humble record which I have heretofore made in another place.

78 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

holding, against any odds ; a bold and aggressive ad-
vocate, and a most fearless and uncompromising de-
fender of the doctrines of the church as he construed
them. Those who attended his services might expect
to hear the truth as he saw it expounded with vigor
and with eloquence ; with no waste of words of amity,
and regardless where his scimeter fell, or whose harness
it pierced to the dividing asunder of soul and marrow.*
But he was very popular, he filled his church, and peo-
ple went to hear him, not only because the purity of
his life attested his professional honesty, but because
he preached to them without the froth or foam of
rhetorical display, in words worthy of the gravity of his
theme, and in language commensurate in its force with
the immense interests which he set before them. "Life
or death, spiritual and eternal."

Dr. Hain's pastorate continued from 1875 to 1895,
when from some affection of the vocal chords he lost
the power of speech to such an extent that he was un-
able to preach, and felt compelled to resign. Whilst
in the pulpit, he preached the pure word of God with
plainness and with love, and has ever since to the pres-
ent day, living amongst his old parishioners, commend-
ed in walk and conversation that religion which teaches
one to sufifer and to wait when one can no longer serve.
The church increased in numbers and in favor with God
and man during his pastorate ; and the present active,
energetic, earnest and spiritual man who was called to

*Probably some members of the present congregation of St. Paul's
Church can remember an incident at a certain Sunday morning's
service, showing Dr. Winfield's boldness in discussing a subject of
some delicacy — that of dancing, that even now is considered diffi-
cult to handle, though the church and the world have made a
compromise in the matter, a compromise in which some good peo-
ple suppose that the world got the best of the church. I will guar-
antee that Dr. Winfield did not sign the paper.

Petersburg in the Fifties 79

fill his place, Rev. O. S. Bunting, promises, not only to
keep the heritage, but to enlarge its borders.

Grace Episcopal Church, in 1850, was situated on
Old Street, just opposite Snyder's drug store, but it
was not completed till August, 1853. The brick build-
ing still stands, but given over to commercial purposes,
and, though consecrated to God, is consigned to the
keeping of peanut factors.

This may all be very well, but it always seemed to me
to be a sort of desecration to divert a temple, reared to
the most High God, to the baser purposes of trade.
This congregation some eight years before had wor-
shiped in a small wooden building immediately on the
Appomattox, just about where Williams' Mill now
stands, under the pastorate of Rev. J. C. Gibson. This
house was so near the water that one could easily step
from the side door or window into the river, forming
at this point an admirable and natural baptistry. When
the congregation grew so large that it had to seek an
outlet, it was supposed that, "being much water there,"
another congregation, the administration of whose pe-
culiar rites required such a convenience, might be in-
duced to locate in the abandoned building. But if such
suggestion was ever made it failed to materialize, and
this house, also consecrated to holiest purposes, was
turned over to the common uses of an ordinary tene-
ment house.

Under the pious, zealous, and indefatigable labors of
"Parson Gibson," as he was then called by many of his
people, the congregation at the church on Old Street
in less than ten years again outgrew the capacity of the
building, and a lot was bought on High Street, and the
corner-stone of the present edifice was laid December,
1859. The basement was finished sufficiently for wor-
ship in July, 1861 ; but the war and its incidents pre-
vented its completion before 1870, and in April of that

So Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

year Grace Church was consecrated by Bishop Johns
for the third time. Let us hope that this building, at
least, "erected for the public worship of God, and sepa-
rated from all unhallowed, worldly and common uses,"
in order to fill men's minds with greater reverence for
His Glorious Majesty, may never become a house of
merchandise, but remain, as it was set apart in the of-
fices of consecration, as a house where "His holy name
may be worshiped in all generations."

In more than half a century Grace Church had only
one pastor. Rev. J. C. Gibson. In that time he built
up the church from a few straggling communicants to
one of the largest and most influential in the city. It
is difficult to give a correct portraiture of the character
of this remarkable man, for remarkable he must have
been to have gone in and out before one congregation
for so long a time, not only without offense, but belov-
ed and honored by all. As a preacher he had none of
the graces of oratory, "hanging no flowers of earthly
sort upon the sacred text" ; plain, pungent, and prac-
tical, "he spake as one having authority," "and the peo-
ple heard him gladly." In private he not only reproved
sin wherever he found it, but he gave such a lustrous
example in himself of a godly walk and of a pure life,
that neither malice nor scandal ever dared to touch the
hem of his garment; "wise as a serpent, yet harmless
as a dove," he had learned of his great prototype, Paul,
"to be all things to all men, if perchance he might save
some." At the semi-centennial celebration of his pas-
torate, the ministers of all denominations assembled
at his church to join in the services, and to express by
their presence their great appreciation of his work, and
by their prayers their earnest wish that God would yet
retain him for many years as an ambassador of His
cause and kingdom.

Petersburg in the Fifties 8i

A purse of gold was presented him by his friends,
but this gift was as nothing to the noble tribute paid
him by the presence and congratulations of the clergy
of other churches of the city, many of whom had differ-
ed from him in doctrine and opposed him in form, with
a force and vigor characteristic of ecclesiastical dis-
cussion.

He lived several years after his semi-centennial, and
was succeeded by his youthful curate — a young gentle-
man gifted, popular, and attractive, but who will need to
keep his armor burnished if he is to succeed in main-
taining the prestige of his predecessor.

The Presbyterians in January, 1851, consisted of two
congregations, one worshiping in the Tabb Street
Church (not the present building) and one on High
Street, in a building which stood in the place now built
up and known as Baltimore Row. Though the Han-
over Presbytery was organized as far back as 1755, it
seems there was no Presbyterian church, or even any
stated Presbyterian worship, prevailing in Petersburg
prior to 1812 or 1813.

About this time the Rev. B. H. Rice, a native Virgin-
ian, but who had been preaching in Pennsylvania, came
South with a commission from the General Assembly
as a missionary, and commenced to preach in an un-
finished store on Bank Street. There were but two
members of the church in his congregation, but in a
twelve-month the membership had increased from two
to twenty, and the church was regularly organized, and
Mr. Rice chosen as pastor, and was regularly installed
by the Presbytery of Hanover at the spring session of
1814. This was the humble beginning of the present
prosperous, large, and influential denomination in Pe-
tersburg. In 1822 the congregation had so increased
that more enlarged and more comfortable quarters
were sought, and a church was built on Tabb Street,

82 Scz'cnly-ii've Years in Old Virginia

on a locality on the opposite side of the street from that
occupied by the present building, and in 1824, in this
building, known as Tabb Street Church, was held a
session of the Synod. In November, 1841, this build-
ing was destroyed by a disastrous fire, which also burn-
ed Powell's Hotel, then standing where the Iron Front
stores recently stood, and with it many valuable houses
in the vicinity. The large stables belonging to Pow-
ell's Hotel were also burned, with many fine horses.
I was in the city at the time, and, witnessing this acci-
dent, I was more impressed as a boy with the loss of
those stables, I suspect, than I was with the loss of the
church. In less than four years the present beautiful
and substantial structure was rebuilt on the north side
of the street, and was dedicated to God by Rev. W. T.
Plummer in January, 1844, Dr. John Leyburn being at
that time pastor. The pastor of Tabb Street Church
in January, 185 1, was Rev. A. B. Vanzant, a scholarly
man and a good preacher, acceptable to the people, and
successful in building up the church, it was said. I
never had the pleasure of knowing him, and heard him
preach only a few times, though he was the pastor until
1856. During the same year, 185 1, the Second Presby-
terian Church was organized, November 14, by twen-
ty-two members dismissed from Tabb Street Church
for that purpose. This colony settled in the old church
building on High Street, w'hich I think had been occu-
pied at one time by a different branch of the Presby-
terian Church, and before that time had been once util-
ized as a shot tower, a base usage, one would think — a
manufactory of ammunition, but only on advanced
lines, as the Christian nations had not then carried the
Bible upon the bayonet, or sought to augment the
teachings of the New Testament with shrapnel and
grape. The Prince of the House of David was yet on
His way to Jerusalem, hailed with hosannas by his ex-

Petersburg in the Fifties 83

altant worshipers, and the warrior and the war-horse,
with sabres of artillery and with the bugle's martial
call, were awaiting the centuries of the promise of
"peace and good will to men."

Is it a coincidence that of the three eminent gentle-
men who served this church in the line of pastorate for
the first ten years of its work, one was a Boanerges,
a preacher of, and a believer in, muscular Christianity, a
sterling and true minister of the Church MiHtant — and
another commanded a battery of Confederate artillery,
and fought with the same zeal and distinguished ability
that characterized his subsequent services in the pulpit
— that shot were moulded only a few years in advance
of the occasion?

From the date of its organization in 181 3 to 1900.
Tabb Street Church was served by seventeen different
pastors, one on an average of every five years. Of the
ten who served the church during the last half century.
I had the pleasure of knowing only four of them, the
Revs. Rutherford, Witherspoon, Kerr, and Rosebro.
These gentlemen were all noted for their polished man-
ners, their unaffected piety, and for their scholarly, but
earnest and eloquent presentation of the truth. Cir-
cumstances made me more intimately acquainted
with Drs. Witherspoon and Rosebro; and few minis-
ters have impressed me more forcibly with the idea
that, unconscious of self or forgetful of self, they were
going about their Master's business, ready in all things
to do and to abide His holy will. To one who sat on
the outskirts of the congregation and watched them in
their daily walk amongst men, they seemed to "glory
only in the Cross of Christ," and to commend not
themselves, but only the Crucified One.

The Second Presbyterian congregation worshiped in
the building on High Street before referred to, until
1863, when the present church was erected on Wash-

84 y'^ei'cufy-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia

ington Street. Its first pastor, the Rev. Mr. Wilson,
was inaugurated the year of my arrival in Petersburg,
and served only a few years. He was succeeded by
Rev. Dr. Theo. Pryor; he by Rev. Dr. Miller, who for
a few years had served the Tabb Street congregation ;
he by Rev. Mr. Petrie, and he by the present solid, con-
servative, and consecrated man of God, Mr. Wynn.
The average pastorate was ten years.

Dr. Pryor, after a few years' service at this church,
removed to Nottoway County, and in the church at
Nottoway Court House preached with great vigor and
eloquence, even to an advanced old age. Dr. Pryor
was a man cast in the mould of which martyrs were
made in the olden time, and whether roasted, broiled,
or boiled, he would never have yielded one iota in the
confession of that faith which he so long held and so
strongly defended.*

*Dr. Theo Pryor was one of four young gentlemen who com-
menced the practice of law in the county of Dinwiddle about 1820,
each one of whom on professing religion some few years afterwards,
left the law and entered the ministry. The others were the two At-
kinsons of that county, one of whom became a Bishop in the Pro-
testant Episcopal Church, and the other a distinguished divine in
the Presbyterian Church and professor at Hampden-Sidney College,
and the fourth was my honored father, who left the law after he had
attained distinction, and became a local preacher in the Methodist
Church. I have lately unearthed his license to practise law, dated
the 14th day of February, 1820, and append the full text :
Virginia, to zvit :

Whereas, John Gregory Claiborne, gentleman, hath produced to us
the requisite certificate from the county court of Dinwiddie, touching
his honesty, probity, and good demeanor, and hath applied to us for
a license to practise Law, and having examined him as to his knowl-
edge of the Law and found him duly qualified, therefore, we license
him, the said John Gregory Claiborne, to practise the Law in the
Supreme and Inferior Courts of this commonwealth. Given under
our hands and seals this 14th day of February, 1820.

SPENCER ROANE (Seal),
VVM. II. CABELL. (Seal),
WM. BROCKENBOROUGH (Seal).

Petersburg in the Fifties 85

The Catholic congregation of Petersburg was or-
ganized about 1820 with about fifty members, and mass
was said for the first time, and for twenty-one years
afterwards, in a house at the corner of Short Market
and High Streets. There was no regular pastor of this
people during all that period, but in 1841 the church
at the corner of Washington and Long Market Streets
was built, and was dedicated in January, 1842, by
Bishop Whalan as St, Joseph's CathoHc Church of
Petersburg, the Rev. S. A. Bernier the first resident
priest.

In 185 1, when I came to Petersburg, the resident
priest was the Rev. Joseph Dixon. I do not remember
to have met him. In 1853 the Rev. Father Hitzel-
berger was transferred from Norfolk to Petersburg and
remained as pastor of the church for three years. In
our mutual ministrations to the sick, especially in one
family of prominence at that time, we became well
acquainted. He was a man of great learning and re-
search, and a most genial and agreeable companion.
He resigned his pastorate in 1856 to become a Jesuit,
and Rev. Father Mulvey, D. D., took his place, and
continued in office for sixteen years.

During this eventful period, the most eventful and
the most unhappy in the history of Petersburg, when
for four years a cruel and relentless war was
waged even to her doors, and the blood of father and
son shed by a merciless foe stained the very lintels of
the homesteads they were called to save from violence
and rapine, and in the four successive years of the so-
called peace, worse than the peace which reigned at
Warsaw, — the years of oppression and humihation of
a gallant but unarmed people, when the foot of the
slave was placed by the conqueror upon the neck of his
master, and the grasp of the carpet-bagger, less piti-
ful and less respectable than the slave, was gathering

86 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia

up the little that was left to feed the hungry and to sup-
port the helpless, — Father IMulvey walked amongst us
brave, cheerful, cheering, helping where help was possi-
ble, and dispensing to all, friend and foe alike, the con-
solations of his holy office. During the fearful assault
of the siege, when shot and shell rained devastation
upon this devoted city, he seemed as unaffected by
danger as though devoid of fear. During the last day
of the siege, when the fighting was almost continuous
charge and repulse, a young captain, not yet of age,
in leading a forlorn hope, was shot through the body,
and brought back to the rear by the ambulance corps.
I was called to him, but saw at once that his hurt was
beyond human help. Recognizing him, and knowing
that he was a Catholic, 1 directed a soldier to summon
Father Mulvey. He must have been somewhere near,
for in a few minutes he was at my side. I pointed out
the young officer, and told the Father that he had but
a little time left, as the death damp had already gather-
ed on his brow, when the good man spoke up, "Oh, he
is all right, he is all right, I saw him before you." But
he came to us, and kneeling down administered the last
offices of the church, the gallant young fellow receiving
them with perfect faith, and passing away with a smile
from the boundary line of battle to the borders of that
land where the nations learn war no more.

Father Mulvey remained in charge of the church in
Petersburg until 1872. He died in December of that
year, and was buried on the 15th, followed to the ceme-
tery by great crowds of people, irrespective of de-
nominational association — people who gathered at his
funeral to testify their appreciation of his worth and
of his loss to a community in which he had lived to
dispense so many deeds of mercy and of chanty.
Bishop, now Cardinal Gibbons, preached a most able
and eloquent sermon; but nothing of the many good

Petersburg in the Fifties 87

words in which he referred to the departed priest bore
so telling a significance, built up so beautiful an
eulogium, as when he said: "Father Mulvey lived and
died poor, and his superflous means he distributed to
the poor. At his death there was perhaps as much as
$10 found in his house."

Father Mulvey was a man of ripe learning, an Eng-
lish, Greek, and Latin scholar of such accepted merit
that the propaganda of Rome conferred on him the
title of D. D., an honor which with characteristic
modesty he declined. As a man he was most com-
panionable, his conversation abounding in anecdote,
and enriched with the brightest of Irish humor. It
was my privilege to have held his confidence and to
have enjoyed his friendship ; and standing by his bed
cit the last to have witnessed his final fearless fight and
victory over death. Gently in his bereft senses, cheer-
ily, even playfully, he rallied a kind old parishioner who
was weeping bitterly beside his bed — then simply closed
his eyes and slept.

During a short interregnum of Father Mulvey's
pastorate, whilst he was temporarily called to fill the
place of Bishop Gibbons during a visit to Rome, Father
Van der Plas, a talented and bright young priest from
Holland, was assigned to St. Joseph's Church ; but,
poor fellow, he succumbed to an attack of fever and
died after only a few months of service. After the
death of Father Mulvey, the Rev. T. J. Wilson was ap-
pointed to the rectorship of St. Joseph's Church.
Father Wilson was a generous, big-hearted, genial
Irishman, who soon made his way to the hearts, not
only of his own congregation, but of the people of all
denominations, and those of no denomination. His
charities were great and bestowed without regard to
church affiliation. He was exceedingly active and
zealous in his work, and during his pastorate St.

8^ Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Joseph's Parochial School was opened, St. Joseph's new
Catholic cemetery was purchased and dedicated, and
St. Francis' Church at Jarratt's, in Sussex County, was
built and dedicated. In 1884 he was transferred to
Harpers Ferry, carrying with him the love and the
prayers of the people, especially of the poor, to whom
he was endeared by his many benefactions.

He was followed by Rev. W. B. Henley, of Rich-
mond, who only remained until September, 1885, when
he was transferred to Portsmouth, Virginia, and the
present incumbent. Rev. J. T. O'Farrell, installed in
his place. In the sixteen years of service of Father
O'Farrell the congregation has increased manifold, and
by his zeal and indomitable energy he has erected a
monument to himself in the present beautiful church
building, which will testify of his work as long as it
shall stand. His people, and all the people, hope that
he may be left with them for many years to illustrate
in his life the doctrines of the Divine Master in whose
footsteps he follows.

There were three colored churches in Petersburg in
185 1. One of these was a Methodist church, the old
Union Street Methodist Church as it now stands, and
which had been turned over to the colored Methodists
after the occupation of the Washington Street Meth-
odist Church, Of the two Baptist churches, one was
what is known as the Third Baptist Church, now the
same building; and the other the Gillfield Baptist
Church, which was then a wooden structure, and which,
since the war, has been replaced by the present hand-
some and commodious edifice.

The colored congregations, especially that at the Gil-
field Church, were large, but a great many slaves wor-
shiped in the white churches, where a place was always
reserved for them in the gallery. On communion Sun-
days the colored members were invited down into the

Petersburg in the Fifties 89

body of the church, and, after the whites, partook of
the elements at the same altar. There were some
colored preachers of great gift in uncultured eloquence ;
one of them, whom I heard at the Gillfield Baptist
Church some fifty years ago, still lives and preaches in
Richmond, Virginia, the Rev. John Jasper, who has ac-
quired some eminence as a disputant of the generally
accepted theory of the solar system, and who still pro-
claims with dogmatic pertinacity that the "sun do
move," not the earth.

After the tragic events of the Southampton Insur-
rection, twenty years before, in August, 1831, the as-
sembly of slaves in church, or elsewhere, without the
presence of some reputable white man or men, was
forbidden by law. Often, or generally, the white man
himself was a preacher and in charge of the congrega-
tion. Night service was impracticable, as the curfew
rang at nine o'clock, and no slave was allowed to leave
the premises known as his home without a pass from
his owner or employer.

This vigor of requirement was made necessary, or
supposed to be necessary, from the fact that Nat
Turner, a fanatical negro preacher in the county of
Southampton, had hatched a diabohcal plot, known as
the "Insurrection," in his nightly rehgious meetings,
whereby he, with some hundred of his deluded follow-
ers, was enabled in one day and night to murder in cold
blood, without regard to age or sex, but mostly women
and children, nearly an hundred whites, before an armed
resistance could be organized to repel and capture the
insurgents. And though hundreds of slaves rallied to
defend their masters and to show their fidelity, yet the
possible recurrence of such a tragedy created a wide-
spread alarm, and weakened the confidence of the mas-
ter in the slave in many instances, and disturbed the
kindly relations which had always existed between

90 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

them. The kindness of their relations may be better
appreciated when Nat Turner himself refused to mur-
der his own master and mistress, "who," he said, "had
been too kind to him," and when one of his chief aids
made it a point in joining the insurgents, "that he
should not be required to murder his own white peo-
ple."

Ignorance, fanaticism, brandy, and the instigation of
Northern emissaries evidently moved the misguided
blacks more than the love or the desire of their own
freedom.*

There was no Jewish Church in Petersburg in 1851.
The congregation of the Rod of Sholem was organized
in October, 1858, and worshiped in a building on Syca-
more Street. In 1866 it removed to the basement of
the Masonic Hall on Tabb Street. The first Hazan,
or reader, was Mr. M. Oppenheimer, who served for
four years. He was succeeded by Mr. Gross, who
served for two years, and resigned, being subsequently
recalled, however, and serving several years longer.
]n 1874 the congregation bought the old Baptist
Church at the corner of High and Alarket Streets, but
not liking the situation, afterwards bought a lot on
Union Street and erected the present handsome and
convenient synagogue. This church is now under the
care of Dr. Tyre, a learned and eloquent German
scholar, and numbers amongst its members nearly all
of the Israelitish citizens of Petersburg.

* Those who wish to read a detailed account of this horrible mass-
acre, with the accompanying circumstances, and of the capture and
execution of the ring-leader, will find it, with much other matter of
great historic interest bearing upon the subject t>f slavery, in an ex-
haustive and most interesting volume, "The Southampton Insurrec-
tion," by William Sydney Drewry, Ph. B., M. A. (University of
Virginia), Honorary Scholar in History (Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity), IQOO. Washington: The Neale Publishing Company.

Petersburg in the Fifties 91

Having noted the pulpit, perhaps I should speak
next of the press of Petersburg in 1850. The leading
papers, neither dailies, were The Intelligencer, found-
ed in 1789 by William Prentiss, and edited by John W.
Syme, and Tlie Southsidc Democrat, founded in 1849,
and edited by Roger A. Pryor. The former was, and had
been for years, the mouthpiece and exponent of the
Whig Party, which at that time represented the ma-
jority in politics, not only in Petersburg, but generally
in the surrounding counties. Mr. Syme was a son of
Parson Syme, so long rector of St. Paul's Church, and
was a good representative of the dignity, intelligence,
and conservatism of the class to which he was born,
and whose opinions he boldly and faithfully upheld.
He was a spirited, incisive writer, abounding in humor,
quick at repartee, and bitter when provoked. He was
a most genial, companionable man, fond of good cheer
and exceedingly popular with his party. He repre-
sented the city in the General Assembly of Virginia
for years; and owing to his influence, mostly, the
Southside Railroad was incorporated, with its terminus
in Petersburg, instead of Richmond.

Just before the beginning of the Civil War, Mr.
Syme removed to Raleigh, North Carolina, and bought
and edited the Raleigh Register, I think ; and The Intelli-
gencer passed into the hands of Bingham and Moore,
but its course was short-lived and it did not survive the
war.

The Southside Democrat was founded in 1849, owned
and edited by Roger A. Pryor, now a distinguished
jurist of New York City. Pryor was, as was Syme,
the son of a clergyman, an eminent divine of the Pres-
byterian Church, and was talented, studious, ambitious,
bold to contempt of consequences, and a fitting leader
of the young Democracy which was springing up in
the decadence of the Whig Party, tainted at that time

92 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

with free-soilism and abolition at the North, and ready
on that account for dissohition at the South.

For the first few years of his editorial life Pryor con-
fined himself closely to his office, evidently studying
the highest standards in his reading, and his editorials
were a revelation of strength and purity in classic Eng-
lish. It was impossible, however, for a man of his
tastes and force not to drift into politics outside of the
sanctum of his paper, and the public soon recognized
him as one of the ablest and most eloquent speakers
upon the hustings and in the bitter dissensions that
marked the proceedings of every gathering of the peo-
ple in those years.

In the mutterings and threatenings of the storm
that was soon to break in fury upon a hitherto peaceful
and peace-loving land, he found abundant opportunity
for the cultivation and display of those rare powers of
oratory in debate which subsequently forced him to the
front of the forum.

In 1863 he was called to edit the Enquirer, the paper
which for years, under the venerable Thomas Ritchie,
had been the mouthpiece of the Democratic Party in
Virginia, and the ablest exponent of Democratic doc-
trine. Whilst filling the office of editor, Pryor was
principal in several affairs of honor, as the duel was
then called, but he came out of all unhurt. The duello
was the fashionable mode of settling differences be-
tween gentlemen at that day; and though indefensible
from some points of view, was less reprehensible and
less barbarous than the present system, which places a
revolver in the hip pocket of the aggrieved citizen and
bids him open battle upon the street or elsewhere, as
much to the danger of the innocent bystander as to his
opponent.

After taking charge of the Enquirer, Pryor did not
remain in the editorial chair very long, and from the

Petersburg in the Fifties 93

tripod he stepped to the floor of Congress. Mr. Wm.
O. Goode, who had been elected to the House of Rep-
resentatives from the Fourth District of Virginia, died
before taking his seat, and Pryor was elected to fill his
place, his opponent in the canvass being Col. Thomas
F. Goode. His career in Congress was short and he
had only time to work up his reputation as an im-
passioned speaker and a fearless defender of the rights
of the States. Before two sessions passed the domi-
nant party dissolved the Union, broke the compact
of the Constitution, and drove the South into seces-
sion.

He came home with the Virginia delegates, and as
private in cavalry, as colonel of infantry, and as bri-
gadier-general he drew his trenchant blade in defense
of his native State in a cause as hopeless as it was just
and righteous.

After the war, true to his combative and courageous
instincts, he sought the fields of the enemy for forage,
and though handicapped by poverty and regarded as an
alien, and by many as a traitor to the old flag, he forged
his way again to the front, and attained the ermine of a
judge in a profession crowded with the wisest, the
ablest, and the most astute men of the greatest city of
the country.

The Southside Democrat, after Pryor left it, passed
into the hands of A. D. Banks in 1863; then Banks and
Keiley, then Banks and Thackston. Keiley I will note
hereafter. Thackston was editor only a short time be-
fore the final collapse of the paper in the events of
i86i-'65 ; but Banks was a character who is worthy of
recollection. He was fat, genial, jovial, of imperturb-
able good humor, even in the exciting scenes and times
of the last days of the old regime. He knew everybody
and made friends with everybody. He loved play bet-
ter than work, and found it difficult to confine himself

94 Scz'ciity-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia

to the routine drudgery of the editor's office, hence of-
ten absented himself therefrom on Httle trips of pleas-
ure, and nowhere found so much to entertain and
amuse him as in Washington, where he seemed to know
intuitively and intimately the leading men of his party.
A striking picture of Banks strolling about the Capitol
with his arm around the neck of Stephen A. Douglas
still remains in my memory. Douglas was at that
time a great figure and a dominant character in
the political arena ; but no man could resist the
genial and artless assurance of Banks. He seemed to
know all of the big men, and to enjoy their confidence
and their companionship. I perpetrated a little piece
of mischief on him once, which his friends enjoyed more
than he, I suspect. He was in the habit, when the
fever came on him to go to Washington, of sending his
exchanges by the printer's devil to my office, with the
polite request that I would get out the paper for him
until his return, which was always an unknown quantity
as to time. I frequently did this with pleasure, and
loved, as everybody else did, to oblige him ; but it oc-
curred to me on the last occasion of such a request that
it would add some piquancy to the paper if I changed
its politics, which I did, pitching into the administra-
tion with all the mad zeal of a new convert. The next
day a telegram, more emphatic than elegant, came to
the office from Pryor, then in Congress, inquiring who
was "running the Soiithside Democrat.^' Banks followed
the telegram at his very early convenience, but he took
the joke in good part, and it did not interrupt our
kindly relations.

Poor, kindly, genial, generous, happy fellow, his
paper perished in the general immolation of the rights
of the vStates. I lost sight of him after I went into the
army, in April, 1861, but I heard tliat he lived only a
short time, fortunately dying without knowledge of

Pcicrsburg in the Fifties 95

the bitterness of the defeat of the cause which he had
so enthusiastically championed.

But neither the Petersburg Intelligencer nor the South-
side Democrat was published at the commencement of
the war or during the war. The only paper which man-
aged to live through those tempestuous times was the
Petersburg Express. This was the first daily paper ever
published in the city, and was founded in 1853 by Mr,
Samuel B. Paul, then a resident of Petersburg, but now
an eminent lawyer in New York. He sold it after a few
months to Crutchfield and Campbell, under whose man-
agement it was a s'reat success, financially and other-
wise. It was independent in politics, yet boldly an up-
holder of the Southern cause ; but on the entrance of
the Federal troops into the city it was taken possession
of by some Northern soldiers, and for the short time
in which they published it it was aggressively and of-
fensivel}^ a Yankee sheet. After its restoration to its
rightful owners it was thought by some people to lean
too much toward the North, and its popularity waned.
It was then sold to O. P. Hains and William Campbell.
In turn they sold it to T. J. Clark & Co., and they to
Smith, Camp & Co., who changed its name to the
Courier, and then it was sold to Charles Peebles, and
then to E. B. Branch & Co., who christened it the
Progress, and then in 1872 to Messrs. Venable, Gregory
& Patteson. who rechristened it the Appeal.

In the meantime, soon after the war, in 1865, the
Hon. A. M. Keiley, now Judge of the International
Court in Egypt, and Major E. B. Branch, who is yet
living, established a paper which they called the News.

Mr. Keiley had been distinguished as an ultra Union
man, even voting against the ordinance of secession,
though with a musket on his shoulder as a soldier of
the Confederacy, yet so radically had his views been
changed by four years of war and the reckless viola-

g6 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

tions of all constitutional obligations by the Washing-
ton Government, that he attacked the authorities in
power with a vigor and bitterness which soon drew
upon himself their indignant interference. He was ar-
rested and cast into prison by General Gibbon, then the
military commandant of the district, and the News sup-
pressed.

Having been released in a short time by interven-
tion of friends and on the promise of better behavior,
the name of the Nezvs was changed to the Index. It was
then sold to Cameron, Sykes & Co., and then to Cham-
berlaine, Sykes & Co., and finally, in 1873, was consoli-
dated with the Appeal, and published by a company un-
der the name of Index-Appeal.

Soon after this Mr. R. P. Barham, from manager,
became publisher and proprietor. Since that time it has
been uninterruptedly published by Mr. Barham, and
whilst independent of party, it is essentially Demo-
cratic, loyal to the South, conservative in sentiment,
and withal one of the most prosperous and best-paying
papers in this section of the country.

There were several other papers published between
1850 and i860 in Petersburg — as the Daily Star, by
Rev. A. J. Leavenworth ; the Press, by S. B. Paul ; the
Constitution, by J. R. Lewellyn, in 1859; the Bulletin,
i860, by W. H. lanson; Prices Current, 1858, by T. J.
Clark ; but all were short lived except the last. Mr.
Clark, who is the veteran of the press in this city, still
publishes the latter, a sheet of interest to the mercan-
tile community.

Though there was no lack of educational facilities in
Petersburg in 1850, and no lack of interest in the sub-
ject, yet, and especially in the matter of public schools,
there was no comparison between the opportunity af-
forded for getting even a common-school education
ihen and at the present time. Tlie system of public

Petersburg in the Fifties 97

schools provided for in the constitution of 1869, ^"^ as
carried out in the city, at least, leaves no excuse for any
parent to say that his child has had no opportunity for
securing an education and a liberal one. The efficient
Superintendent of Public vSchools for Petersburg, Dr.
Duncan Brown, reports for the year ending June, 1900:
Whites — males, 741; females, 822; total, 1,563. Col-
ored— males, 682; females, 1,012; total 1,694. With
twenty-nine white teachers and twenty-four colored
teachers, including two special teachers for stenog-
raphy and cooking.

The present status of the public schools seems a
miraculous evolution of the Anderson Seminary, the
only institution of the kind a half century ago. David
Anderson, a Scotchman by birth, but a citizen of
Petersburg, died in 18 19, and after providing in his will
for his negro servant Jingo, bequeathed the balance of
his estate to the cit}^ the property to be sold and in-
vested in bank stock, and the interest or dividends on
the same to be "applied to the education of poor chil-
dren, in reading, writing, and primary arithmetic."

A suit was instituted by the executors of the will
against the City of Petersburg, but the defendants won
the case, and the Common Hall appointed Lewis
Mabry, Jabez Smith, and Edward Powell, a committee
to mature a plan of instruction. The monitorial, or
Lancasterian system, was adopted, and on January ist,
1 82 1, the plan was put in execution. During the first
ten years of the school "upwards of four hundred chil-
dren w^ere educated in whole or in part," and there was
a continued and uninterrupted success of the same until
the adoption of the present system.

One of the public schools of the city is still con-
ducted in the old Anderson building, which yet stands as
a monument to the munificent charity of the generous
old Scotchman, who really "inaugurated the cause of
7

98 Scventy-Hvc Years in Old Virginia

the education of the poor in Petersburg." In 185 1 this
school was in a most flourishing condition, filled to its
capacity. The teacher at that time and for many years
afterwards was the Rev. J. D. Keiley. He was an Irish-
man, educated, it was said, for the church, though at
that time he was not a Catholic. He was a man of
great learning, always a student, and of many eccen-
tricities, but of rare qualifications for the management
and instruction of boys. He was an exemplar in this
respect, not only as a school teacher, but in the train-
ing and rearing of his own sons, of which there were
four. One, the Hon. A. M. Keiley, not only attained to
distinction early in his career, as a soldier, and as a
representative of his city in the General Assembly of
Virginia, but was appointed, by the President of the
United States, Judge of the International Court at
Alexandria, Egypt, a position of great honor and re-
sponsibility, and which he has held for nearly twenty
years. Another is a distinguished prelate in the Catho-
lic Church, and Bishop of Savannah ; and the two
others, men of mark and position in Greater New York.
Mr. Keiley had a special fondness for the old classics,
and as our tastes in that respect were similar, we some-
times met and interchanged views on subjects that were
of mutual interest. On one occasion, whilst walking
out with some young ladies, I met the old gentleman,
who accosted me with the Greek aphorism, "they that
would be wise must walk with the wise." I did not con-
sider it entirely necessary to translate this salutation to
my light-hearted companions, but T noted afterwards
that the old gentleman never took the same interest in
my studies. We were good friends, however, to the last
of his long life. After discontinuing teaching he gave
himself up, soul and body, to works of charity. I never
knew a man who exhibited in his life such utter self-ab-
nesration. "What shall we eat and wherewithal shall we

Petersburg in the Fifties 99

be clothed" did not enter into any of his calculations so
far as he was personally concerned. Indeed, I fear that
he did not have always in his last days that which he
should have had to eat, or that which he should have
had to wear, to render him comfortable — not than an
hundred hands, besides filial ones, were not ready to
contribute to his necessities; but he did not seem to
recognize the fact that in his body he had any necessi-
ties. All that he could get he would spend for others,
and as long as his strength enabled him to go, he went
daily seeking the poor, the sick, the miserable, in hovel
and in jail, carrying such comforts as he could com-
mand, and the consolations of that religion which he
construed to mean "visiting the widows and orphans in
their afifliction and keeping himself unspotted from the
world." There is many a one left living yet who could
testify to his faithful and unfaltering efforts to help
them in trouble, and who will testify when called before
the Grand Assize that when they were "hungry or sick
or in prison, he came to them and ministered to them."

No pupils were allowed to enter this public school
except on tickets, and no tickets were issued to any
child under seven years of age, or whose parents were
considered "able to pay for their tuition in some other
school." As significant of the estimation in which this
school was held about the middle of the last century,
we find appointed as trustees and visitors such men as
John Bragg, Daniel Lyon, Thomas J. Gholson, G. W.
Boiling, Lewis Mabry, Thomas N. Lee, Hugh Nelson,
Thomas Branch, Francis Major, Robert Ritchie,
D'Arcy Paul, and A. G. McTlwaine. The names of these
men will be recognized as representing the highest
class of the best citizens of the best days of Petersburg.

There were some other minor public schools, sup-
ported partly from the Literary Fund of the State and
partly by city appropriation.

L.ofC.

lOO Scz'cnty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

Of the private schools, there were three for boys.
One, the Petersburg Classical Institute, at the present
High School Building. This had been incorporated as
far back as 1838, with a capital of $9,500, in shares of
five hundred dollars each, and had had a long and dis-
tinguished career. "Its curriculum embraced, amongst
others things, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, Spanish,
and Italian," and had had in its corps of instructors
some of the most noted educators of the day. such as
the Rev. E. D. Saunders, Rev. Mr. Leavenworth, Mons.
Armad Preot, and others. Mr. Thomas Davidson was
the principal in 1850. After the war Mr. Davidson
opened a- large and flourishing female school on Market
Street, in the house now owned by the Catholic
Church, and occupied by the Sisters of Charity, who
conduct a most excellent mixed school for girls and
boys, known as St. Joseph's School.

Besides the Classical Institute, there was a male
school at the head of Harrison Street, taught by Mr.
Magee at the old Harrison homestead, in the yard of
which was the mammoth white oak tree for so many
years a landmark of the city, and wdiich fell only a few
years ago under the vandalism of business enterprise,
Mr. Magee was a faithful and conscientious teacher,
and had a good school for many years.

Another m.ale school was taught by Mr. Charles
Campbell, the noted author of the "History of Vir-
ginia." This school was located on Halifax Street, just
opposite the New Market, on the old Campbell lot,
which extended through from Market Street to Halifax.
Mr. Campbell was a most scholarly and companionable
gentleman, but he was a representative of the old re-
gime, in which the rod reigned. He believed in the doc-
trine enunciated by Squire Jones in the "Hoosier
Schoolmaster," "no lickin', no I'arnin'." Only a few
days ago I met with one of his old pupils, who still

Petersburg in the Fifties lOi

cherishes Hvely recollections of a lively birch switch
which adorned the master's desk. Indeed, the rod was
the right-hand assistant in every male school of that
day, and was recognized even down to the days of Mc-
Cabe as a powerful help to the master and a most per-
suasive incitement to the pupil. Of late, flogging has
been put away from the schools as a rehc of barbarism,
and it is now held that it serves to degrade the boy,
to break his spirit, and moral suasion has usurped the
fasces. Of course it is not politic, if pertinent, to in-
quire if the boys of this generation are any better,
braver, more high strung, or more studious than were
their fathers ; but one cannot fail of recalling the strug-
gles, the trials, the courage, the manhood of the latter,
and asking if in the heritage they have handed down to
their children they have shown the marks of men whose
spirit had been whipped out of them at school?

Another male school was taught in the brick house,
now the parsonage, in the rear of the Union Street
Methodist Church on Union Street, by Mr. Williams T.
Davis. Mr. Davis was a native of Gloucester County,
but when I was a student at Randolph-Macon College,
then located at Boydton, from the years 1845 to 1848,
he was principal of the Preparatory Department. It
was there that I first met him, and it was then that I
recognized the rugged honesty of character and the
unpretentious but unswerving truthfulness of life that
made me his friend. From that time until I stood at
his bedside, forty-three years afterwards, and closed his
eyes, my regard for him was unabated and unbroken.

In 185 1, after the loss of his first wife, a Miss Beale,
a sister of an old friend and comrade of mine in the
Senate of Virginia and in the Confederate Army, Gen-
eral Beale, he removed to Petersburg and opened the
school to which I have referred. He continued to teach
this male school until 1856, when he was elected Presi-

I02 Sc'i'cuty--fii'C Years in Old Virginia

dent of the Female College in the house now occupied
by Mr. Robert Gilliam at the corner of Sycamore
Street and College Avenue.

This college had been erected and chartered by
eighteen prominent gentlemen of the city in 1856 — not
one of whom now remains save the author of these
memoirs. Amongst these incorporators we find the
names of D'Arcy Paul, E. P. Nash, William Lee,
Thomas Branch, B. P. Harrison, J. M, Shepherd, John
Kerr, and others. How many of them are remembered
by the present generation?

In 1862 Mr. Davis married Miss C. V. Robinson, a
friend of mine and a frequent inmate of my house ; and
in 1863 became President of the Southern Female Col-
lege, which position he held until his lamented death
in July, 1888. True to the instincts of his sturdy man-
hood, Mr. Davis took his place as one of the defenders
of the city when the day of danger came, and with that
immortal handful of militia, 150 in all, who met Kautz's
Brigade in sight of the city gates, helped to delay the
attacking column of that command until reinforcements
could be brought up. And not only that, but he had al-
ready given three sons to the Confederate service, one
dying at Chancellorsville, too ill to do more than cheer
on his comrades to that victory which he did not live to
see; and another, a participant with Mahone's Brigade
in the Crater fight, was wounded in that magnificent
but merciless assault, "where none asked and none
gave quarter," until thirteen Federal battle flags and
Federal regiments went down before one brigade of
Confederate bayonets, numbering 800!

At the death of Mr. Davis his eldest son by his sec-
ond marriage, Mr. Arthur Kyle Davis, succeeded to the
presidency of the school, and, adding to his father's in-
flexible tenacity of purpose the zeal of young blood and
young ambition, has built up in a few years a school

Petersburg in the fifties 103

which to-day has a corps of fourteen members of the
faculty and numbers 137 students, representing five
States of the Union.

There were three female schools in Petersburg in
1 85 1. One at the corner of Marshall and Jefferson
Streets, taught by Miss Simpson, an Enghsh lady who
had long lived in Petersburg — a lady of refinement and
of culture, who had a good school as long as she con-
tinued teaching and who is doubtless gratefully and af-
fectionately remembered by some of the mothers and
grandmothers of the present generation. Another was
located at the corner of Market and Washington
Streets, and was taught by the Rev. Mr. Leavenworth,
a ripe scholar and a conscientious and painstaking in-
structor. The grade of scholarship in his school was
always high, and the course thorough, especially in
mathematics. Another school at the corner of Adams
and Wythe Streets was taught by Mrs. Indiana Pannill.
Mrs. Pannill was the daughter of the Hon. R. K.
Meade, the representative from this district in Con-
gress at that time, and, subsequently, Minister to Bra-
zil. She was a woman of great beauty and vivacity,
and a great belle, but, rejecting many suitors, she gave
her hand to Mr. William Pannill, a young lawyer of
fine attainments and of brilliant promise, but of very
limited means. They opened a school at Dr. Wor-
sham's, in Dinwiddle County, Virginia, immediately af-
ter marriage, but in about two years Mr. Pannill un-
fortunately died. Mrs. Pannill then returned to the
city and opened a school herself, withdrawing entirely
from the society which her personal attractions and ac-
complishments so well fitted her to adorn. She gave
her whole time and life to the honorable profession
that she adopted, and for twelve or fifteen years had a
most successful career as a teacher. She then married
the Rev. Dr. Piatt, to whom we have referred before

104 Scz'ciify-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

in these memoirs, and left Petersburg with him for
Louisville, Kentucky, where he had charge of a large
and fashionable church. After some years of pas-
torate in Louisville, Dr. Piatt was called to San Fran-
cisco, California, and then some years later to New
York, and finally back to Petersburg, where not long
afterwards his wife ended her eventful and useful
career amongst the scenes of her youth, and with the
renewed love of her friends who had survived with her
a quarter of a century of Death's inexorable calls.

These were the only schools of promise, but my
story would be incomplete and unjust if I failed to note
a mixed school for boys and girls kept by Mrs. Rich-
ard Weeks on Dunlop Street, and afterwards on Wash-
ington Street, the house now occupied by Mr. William
Weeks, her son. Mrs. Weeks was most popular and
beloved as a teacher, and had rare qualifications for
\vinning the affection of her little pupils and training
them in the rudiments of learning. I am sure that
amongst those pupils who may be still living to-day
there is not one who would not lovingly testify to her
faithfulness as a teacher and a friend.

The professions of law and medicine were well repre-
sented in Petersburg in 1850, as they had been for half
a century before. Amongst the lawyers whose brilliant
talents and solid learning and distinguished services in
the State and in the Union had thrown a halo around
the bar, and made an inspiration for the men about to
take their places upon the arena where honor and
wealth awaited worth and genius, were the names of
Boiling Robertson, who afterwards became Governor
of Louisiana and U. S. Senator ; and David Robertson,
a Scotchman, who must have been a man of great en-
ergy and endurance, for it is said that he did not hesi-
tate to drive in his old gig in one day between Boyd-
ton and Petersburg, a distance of eighty miles. (This

Petersburg in the Fifties 105

Mr. Robertson reported the debates in the State Con-
vention in which the Federal Constitution was
adopted.) Then there were Winfield Scott, afterwards
the Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army;
Jack Baker, a great wit, a distinguished advocate, and
one of the counsel who defended Aaron Burr in his fa-
mous trial for treason in the beginning of nineteenth
century — the trial in which Wirt won his unfading
laurels ; George Keith Taylor, whose name and whose
fame are imperishable ; Benjamin Watkins Leigh, sec-
ond to no one as a representative man in those days of
giants. Mr. Leigh was United States Senator from
1834 to 1838, and he was also a member of the conven-
tion which formed the Constitution of Virginia of 1829.
In this connection Dr. Atkinson, in the Morstock Pa-
pers, says that to Leigh the "State was indebted for
the modicum of conservatism retained in the constitu-
tion of that day." (To whom is the State indebted for
the modicum of conservatism retained in the constitu-
tion of 1902? The modicum is too small to measure.)

Besides the names of the eminent lawyers of the
Petersburg bar just recited, were Thomas A. Dunn, an
eccentric man, but said to have been a brilliant orator ;
and John Allison, also a man of great eccentricity, but
of reputation in the profession. Mr. Allison lived on
Market Street, in the house now occupied by Mr. Beck-
with, I think. He lived to some year in the fifties, and
was the only one of the worthies mentioned with whom
I had any acquaintance.

The members of the bar in 1851 were F. H. Archer,
Judge John F. May, David May, James Alfred Jones,
Thomas S. Gholson, W. L. Watkins, Alexander Don-
nan, James M. Donnan, John P. May, R. G. Pegram,
Wm. Robertson, Wm. Robertson, Jr., R. R. Collier,
Charles F. Collier, A. B. Spooner, Thomas Dunn,
James E. Watson, Charles J. Cabaniss, Thomas Wal-

io6 Scvcnty-iivc Years in Old Virginia

lace, R. K. Meade, W. T. Joyiies, Marcus Gaines, and
John Lyon.

Of these only two are living at this date. Col. F, H.
Archer and Mr. Charles J. Cabaniss.* The former, old,
"full of years and full of honors," still hves in Peters-
burg, but has retired from the active practise of his
profession. He commanded a company of the Peters-
burg V^olunteers in the First Virginia Regiment during
the Mexican War, and was the hero of the fight at
Rives' Farm, on the 9th of June, 1864, commanding the
handful of reserves of old men and boys who withstood
for so many hours the assaults of Kautz's Brigade and
saved the city from pillage and rapine. On casual ac-
quaintance with Colonel Archer no one would imagine
what manner of man was hidden under that quiet,
gentle and dignified composure which characterized his
personality, yet we doubt if he ever felt the emotion of
fear. An earnest Christian gentleman, he would not
court danger ; but if duty called to any course, he \vould
never recognize danger, but simply and unostenta-
tiously obey the call, to the death, if need be, without
reserve or hesitation. With a cultured and well stored
mind, and long association with the best men of three
decades, together with a graceful and ready pen, it is a
pity that he has not put down on paper reminiscences
of his eventful life for the pleasure and for the profit of
the generation now watching the soft sunset of his
closing career,

Mr. Cabaniss, the only other survivor, has long since
retired from the practice of law, I believe, and is spend-
ing his remaining days on his estate in a neighboring
county, illustrating, as only the old Virginia gentleman
can illustrate, otium cum dignitate, and exhibiting to the
novi homines the last living exemplar of the old regime.

*Both of tlicse gentlemen liave passed away, 1903.

Petersburg in the Fifties 107

He is the only man left in his vicinage, I am told, that
has successfully resisted the covetous greed of modern
commerce essaying to enter his paternal grounds,
where neither the sound of axe nor saw has yet been
heard in its forests.

I think I knew personally every member of the bar
at the period spoken of, and I can testify that amongst
them were men of note and mark who well measured up
to the high standard set them by their illustrious
predecessors.

Amongst the lawyers prominent at the bar were the
Mays — Judge John F. May and Mr. David May. Judge
May was the Nestor of the bar. Indeed, he had retired
from practise and must have been quite old, as my
father had studied law under him more than thirty
years before. He was a man of sterling character, and
learned in the law, and commanded both respect and
reverence from all classes. His brother, Mr. David
May, many years his junior, was also a man of the high-
est character personally and professionally. Neither
he nor the Judge were eloquent advocates, but
counsellors — safe, just, and conscientious. Judge May
lived on High Street in the house now owned and occu-
pied by Mrs. Spotswood. Mr. David May also lived on
High Street in the house now occupied by Mr. R, R.
Meacham.

The most noted lawyers were probably Messrs.
Thomas Gholson, William T. Joynes, and James Alfred
Jones. Mr. Jones had reputation for great legal re-
search, industry, and acumen. He was a bachelor until
somewhat late in life, when he removed to Richmond
and married a lady of Mobile. He maintained and en-
larged his reputation in Richmond, and attained to a
large and lucrative practise.

Mr. Joynes was a great student, both learned and
wise; an able counsellor and an eloquent advocate. He

io8 S event y-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia

attained to the ermine in middle life and was a member
of the Court of Appeals until his death. Though of ex-
cellent means and of lucrative practise while at the bar,
he cared little for show, and lived on the alley distin-
guished as the place of the Police Department, and in
the brick house adjoining the present Police Station.
Here he dispensed an elegant hospitality to his friends,
and those fortunate enough to be enrolled as his guests
were sure of a treat of Attic salt — as a seasoning.

Mr. Gholson was a man of pleasing address, debonair
and popular ; an able lawyer and a brilliant and eloquent
speaker. He also attained to the ermine and was Judge
of the Circuit Court of this district for some years. He
lived on Bollingbrook Street at one time in the house
next to Wheaden's, or Dr. Robinson's stables, and also
dispensed a most generous and elegant hospitality. Not
long before the war he purchased the house on Friend
Street now occupied by Mr. Dunlop, a more commo-
dious and liner residence. But it must not be supposed
that his house on Bollingbrook Street had its present
surroundings. Lower Bollingbrook Street at that time
was the home of the bon-ton of the city. Mr Gholson
had only one daughter, a charming young lady, a
beauty and a belle, who made his home not only happy
to her parents but to her many young friends; and at
her entertainments, refined and recherche, you might
be confident of meeting the grace and chivalry of Vir-
ginia in her palmiest days. Miss Gholson married Mr.
Norman Walker, of Riclmiond, and after the war went
to England to live, followed soon after by the Judge and
his excellent wife.- He declined to take up the thread
of the law, tangled and stained and broken by the mis-
erable tinkers of legislation gathered under the
curse of reconstruction, and left his profession to en-
gage in more congenial pursuits. I recall very vividly
my first visit to Judge Gholson's mansion. It was in

Petersburg in the Fifties 109

the month of July, 1859, when returning from the Uni-
versity of Virginia, in company with Judge Gholson's
son John, afterwards the Rev. John Y. Gholson. I
stopped over in Petersburg with several others of the
University students. Mr. Gholson gave us a dinner,
and at that dinner I met a young Mr. Farrar, also a
University student, whom, in some way, I had not met
before. Mr. Farrar had with him a banjo, an original
Virginia musical instrument, not as common then as
now, and entertained the company greatly with his
wonderful gift of music. Mr. Gholson was also greatly
taken with his genius. He went to Farrar after he had
ceased playing, and laying his hand upon his shoulder
said, "My young friend, I would give a good deal for
your talent now, but I am glad that I did not have it at
your age," intimating that it would prove a dangerous
distraction to a man who sought to engage in sterner
pursuits. Farrar kept it up, however, through a mod-
erately long life ; was a lawyer of respectability, a
County Court Judge, but was finally better known by
the soubriquet of "Johnnie Reb," and with his banjo
and old Virginia tales and melodies made many a com-
pany happy. He was a good man and a genial com-
panion, and left many friends when called to his last
account.

Another striking figure at the bar was the Hon. R.
K. Meade, though at that time he gave but little at-
tention to the law. He had been elected two years be-
fore to fill the vacancy in the House of Representa-
tives from this Congressional District, left vacant by
the death of the Hon. George C. Dromgoole, defeating
George W. Boiling, Esq., who ran on the Whig ticket
for the same office. Mr. Meade was a man of com-
manding presence, dignified, but courteous and access-
ible, and a perfect exemplar of the Virginia gentleman.
He was therefore a most fitting representative of the

1 10 Sez'cnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia

wealthy, cultivated, and aristocratic constituency which
sent him to Congress. He was intensely Southern in his
feelings, and impetuous and sensitive to any affront, im-
plied or expressed, offered to himself or his section. It
was not unexpected, therefore, to his friends, when
Joshua Giddings, of Ohio, made some offensive refer-
ence to the South in a heated debate in the House of
Representatives, that Mr. Meade should have arisen
and assailed and punished him where he stood. The af-
fair was subsequently made the subject of an amusing
cartoon, ''Meade choking Giddings," which went the
rounds of the comic papers, very much to the disgust of
at least the party of the first part.

Mr. Meade was made Minister to Brazil during Mr.
Buchanan's administration, but asked to be recalled, of
course, as soon as Mr. Lincoln was elected President.
He returned home in the spring of 1861 and was offered
a commission as brigadier in the Confederate Army,
but he was taken with an acute attack of the gout, and
died before he had the opportunity of accepting the
honor.

Mr. Meade had a son in the United States Army, a
graduate of distinction of West Point, and a captain
of engineers, R. K. Meade, Jr. He was highly esteemed
by Gen. Winfield Scott, Commander-in-Chief of the
Federal Army, and by Colonel, afterwards Gen. R. E.
Lee, of the Confederate forces. Young Meade was
probably the only officer who literally fought, and with
honor, on both sides in the war between the States. He
was with Maj. Robert Anderson in Fort Sumter when
his State seceded, and could not get out to offer his
resignation to the President ; and when, owing to the
duplicity of Mr. Seward and Mr. Lincoln, the Confed-
erate Government was compelled to reduce the fort,
young Meade took his part gallantly, with the gallant
Anderson, in defending his flag.

Petersburg in the Fifties iii

Beauregard, in command of the Southern forces at
Charleston, was desirous of saving the garrison of Sum-
ter from the mortification of defeat, and proposed not
to attack the fort if the Federal Government would
promise not to attempt to reinforce or to revictual it ;
which promise Mr. Seward gave to Judge Campbell, of
Georgia, and then perfidiously broke. After the garri-
son surrendered, which they only did after the fort had
been knocked to pieces by the Confederate guns, and
were sent North, young Meade lost no time in handing
in his resignation, and as soon as it was accepted he
came South and was commissioned in the Confederate
Army. He had just distinguished himself in the fights
around Richmond in June, 1862, when he was taken
with the Chickahominy fever, and died, with thousands
of other gallant young fellows, who had the good for-
tune to go down when our sun was in its zenith. I have
made this diversion in memory of as brave a gentle-
man and as pure a spirit as ever left earth for Heaven.

The Donnans — Alexander and James M. — were
counsellors attending mostly to office practise, had a
large clientele, and were noted for their energy, their
promptness, and her conscientious devotion to the in-
terests of their clients.

Mr. James Donnan, after the war, was appointed
Consul to Glasgow, and on returning to the United
States, some eight or ten years afterwards, removed to
Richmond.

Mr. Alexander Donnan Hved for many years after
the war, and accumulated a handsome estate, which he
left, with the better heritage of a good name, to his
family. His widow and children all survive him save
one, the first wife of the Hon. Alexander Hamilton.

Mr. Thomas Wallace belonged to the old guard at
the bar — steady, reliable, learned in his profession, and
did good work ; but, placed by fortune beyond the

112 Scz'oity-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

necessity of work, like many other men under similar
easy circumstances, did not achieve the high results of
which he was capable.

Mr. R. R. Collier was also prominent at that time,
both as counsellor and advocate, active, energetic,
pressing the interests of a client as he saw them, with
a zeal and courage that neither quailed at difficulties nor
feared danger.

Mr. James E. Watson — Dr. Watson in 1850, an ec-
lectic physician, an Englishman who had made Peters-
burg his home for some years — left medicine and
studied law, and in two years, by his earnest and as-
sidious devotion to his business, had acquired a repu-
tation that made him Commonwealth's Attorney for
the city, the first, I think, that was elected by the popu-
lar vote. His career was short-lived, and he died in
1865, leaving two children, who are still living, with
warmest recollection of his filial love and care.

Mr. A. B. Spooner was an old gentleman of high
character and social position, but belonged rather to
a generation that was passing away. I had but a limited
acquaintance with him. lie lived in the large white
house on Adams Street recently occupied by Dr. R. M.
Anderson.

Messrs. Charles F. Collier, J. C. May, John Lyon,
R. G. Pegram, W. L. Watkins, and Marcus Gaines
were all young men, companions of mine, just setting
out for the race of life. With varied fortunes they fol-
lowed the road, dropping out one by one, until I am left
the last lone contestant for the rich guerdon that am-
bition held out at the goal, and which seemed then just
within our grasp. What they attained, what I shall
hold when the end comes, is beyond mortal ken. It may
not be a marble shaft or a cenotaph of stone, but this
we know — there shall be a prize to each one that did
run the best that he was able.

Petersburg in the Fifties 113

Marcus Gaines was made Consul to Tripoli. I never
knew his end, but he probably sleeps in the sands of a
foreign shore.

John P. May, brave, peerless, fearless gentleman, fell
at the front of the hotly-contested field of Second Man-
assas.

Charles F. Collier, John Lyon, and W. L. Watkins,
after surviving the perils of war, await the final assize in
old Blandford Cemeterv.

Though not a lawyer, I was for some reason thrown
very much amongst the men of that guild for many
years, and in their bright, genial, and cultivated com-
pany were passed some of the happiest hours of my
life.

When I came to this city on the first of January,
185 1, I found the physicians organized in a body known
as the "Petersburg Medical Faculty." This organiza-
tion had been formed on the 28th of August, 1846, and
proclaimed as its object, "First. The advancement of
medical science ; Second. The promotion of the legiti-
mate interest of the practitioners of medicine, and the
elevation of professional character amongst the people
and amongst ourselves ; Third. The establishment of
harmony, good feeling, and amity of action amongst all
engaged in the honorable practice of our art."

To the furtherance of these commendable objects, a
certain code of laws and regulations were adopted to
which every member was expected and required to sub-
scribe. A physician failing to connect himself with
this association would fail of the benefits of contact and
consultation with his fellows. Every physician on com-
ing to the city was waited on by the secretary of the
faculty and given opportunity to avail himself of these
benefits. Dr. S. A. Hinton, then secretary, waited on
me and T subscribed to the laws. A meeting of the
faculty could lie called at any time by order of the

114 Scfciily-iive Years in Old Virginia

president or on request of five members, but the regu-
lar meetings were ordered for the first Wednesday in
May, and any member failing to attend a regular meet-
ing of the faculty, and being unable to give a satisfac-
tory excuse, was fined five dollars.

In 1848 the regular meeting was fixed for the 3d of
November, and subsequently changed to the third
Wednesday in November, and the fine of five dollars re-
duced to one and finally omitted altogether. This law
abides to this date.

The first regular meeting after my connection with
the faculty was on the third Wednesday, the 19th of
November, 1851. Present: Dr. P. C. Spencer, Presi-
dent ; Drs. B. H. May, Tames May, Luke White, J. E.
Cox, J. J. Thweatt, J. i3ranch, J. P. Woodson, N. F.
Rives, R. L. Madison, John H. Claiborne, C. F. Couch,
W. A. Dudley, Andrew Field, and S. A. Hinton — fif-
teen; absent: J. F. Peebles, W. F. Jones, A. H. Chris-
tian, Thomas Withers, J. W. Whitmore, R. E. Robin-
son, J. Mettauer, WilHam Durkin, eight — twenty-three
in all, of whom only two have survived the half century.
Dr. Dudley* and myself. Besides these, thirty others,
with one exception, who have joined the faculty since
that time have passed away, indicating a mortality diffi-
cult to account for.

Not all of these gentlemen died in Petersburg. Some
who joined the faculty while refugeeing here during the
war, and some who, broken up at their homes in other
portions of the State, gravitated here soon after the
war, moved away to different sections of the country ;
but the news of their deaths which reached us seemed
authentic in every instance. I know of only one of
these physicians — the exception noted above — who is
yet living, Dr. Robert Page, of Berryville, Virginia. He

*Dr. Dudley has since died, 1903.

Petersburg in the Fifties 115

was a surgeon in the army, stationed here during the
last two years of the war, and an able and efficient of-
ficer. He married Miss Patty Hardee, a beauty and a
belle, and a daughter of one of the gallant defenders of
the city who was killed in the ever memorable militia
fight of the 9th of June, 1864. Dr. Page remained in
Petersburg for one or two years after the war, and then
returned to his former home in Berryville, where he is
still engaged in active and successful practise.

By order and regulation, the first annual meeting of
the faculty was held at the house of the senior member,
and each subsequent annual meeting at the house of
the next senior, in rotation ; and it was an unwritten
law that the member at whose house the meeting was
held should give a supper, and these annual suppers
were veritable symposia, where rich viands and gener-
ous wines conspired to create and cement good fellow-
ship, and to preserve an honorable esprit de corps.

With relaxed strain upon the sober and arduous du-
ties of a doctors daily life, and with story and song and
jest, old scores were forgotten, old sores were healed,
old friendships sealed, and we parted, as the night
waned, none the worse for a little revelry that came but
once a year. Oh ! the memories of those evenings come
as soft and balmy as the gentle south winds, which
sweep the quiet resting places of the brave and noble
gentlemen "who made the banquet so fine."

Changed times, changed circumstances, changed as-
sociations, and changed men came with the new regime.
The new faculty of Petersburg preserves its organiza-
tions, its municipal and mandatory rules remain in let-
ter, but one who knew it half a century ago misses the
pervasive spirit of liberality and brotherhood which
filled it then.

The new times early infected the professional rela-
tions, consultations between members of the faculty be-

ii6 Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia

came less frequent and less confidential ; the unwritten
law, requiring of the president an acknowledgment of
the honor conferred upon him, by giving a hospitable
reception, was ignored or broken, and finally it was re-
solved that every man must pay for his own supper if
that element of the annual gathering was considered
essential to the good and perpetuity of the association ;
and at the regular meeting on the 15th of November,
1871, on motion of Dr. Lassiter, a resolution was
adopted that "henceforth the refreshments at the an-
nual supper should be furnished by the faculty," the
secretary collecting from each member his quota of the
cost. Drs. Leigh and Steel were appointed by the presi-
dent as supper committee for one year. A new com-
mittee was appointed annually, and the honor of service
thereon made an object of generous rivalry.

But we must note something of the ma.erial of the
body politic of the Medical Society of Petersburg at
the time when we were inducted into its honorable
membership.

The profession of medicine, like the profession of law
in Petersburg, had in the past history of the city men
of the highest mark; men whose deeds might serve to
awaken in their successors a noble ambition to be
worthy of their sires.

The names of Dr. John Shore, Dr. Richard Field, Dr.
John Strachan, Dr. James Gilliam, Dr. Thomas Robin-
son, and Dr. Richard Batte, all of whom had passed
away before I joined the faculty, had left each the savor
of a good name, and each a reputation whose glamour
lighted the lives of the after men who then received me
in their honored ranks. Few people now living know
anything of these worthies, personally, and we find few
records beyond tradition of their lives given so gener-
ously and often gratuitously to the good of their fellow-
men.

Petersburg in' the Fifties ii/'

Dr. James Gilliam was the owner of "Violet Bank,"
and planned the beautiful grounds and buildings which
made it for years the most desirable suburban resi-
dence in Virginia. I had it from the lips of a Northern
gentleman who visited the place some fifteen years
ago, and who had traveled extensively abroad, that in
some respects it was the prettiest place he ever saw.
Dr. Gilliam must have been a man of great good taste.
Some years ago I incidentally saw a copy of his will,
and one provision of the document struck me very
forcibly — a clause directing that no man unable to pay
his bill should be annoyed by the executor, that the es-
tate should lose it. This indicated the humanitarian
spirit of the doctors of the olden time.

Dr. Thomas Robinson left perhaps the largest repu-
tation of any of the old worthies of that day. He was
an Irish patriot who was compelled to flee his country
for political reasons, and who came to Petersburg
about the beginning of the last century. He was a
graduate of Dublin College, and a man of great learn-
ing and versatile talents, and like most Irish gentlemen,
a genial and companionable person. He taught school
for a few years after coming to this country, in Amelia
County, and then determined to study medicine, going
to Philadelphia and taking his degree. After return-
ing he married a Miss Murray, of Ameha, and located
in Petersburg. He attained, as before remarked, to the
highest place in his profession, and left a record for skill
and success in practise not excelled by any of his com-
peers. He was also noted for his open-hearted gener-
osity and his kindness to the poor. It is reported of him
on one occasion that, being without any money at the
time, he borrowed from his wife the only few dollars
she had, and spent it in furnishing supplies and medi-
cine to a poor family, whilst for some days his own
family were compelled to forego the luxuries to which

1 1 8 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

they were accustomed. His practise partook of the
heroic. I have heard some of his oldest patients say
that his invariable directions were that before being
sent for, the sick person, if an adult, should be given
eight grains of calomel and four grains of Dover's pow-
ders. He would then pay his visit, without haste, and
take charge, allowing no further self medication or do-
mestic prescribing. He believed in and pursued the
anti-phlogistic treatment in full, and as the diseases of
that day all partook more or less of the sthenic type,
and his clientele were a full-blooded, vigorous people,
he had remarkable success. One especial peculiarity of
his practise was the freedom with which he exhibited
mercury. He tested to the last degree its alterative and
antiseptic effects. Ptyalism, a sore mouth, he looked
for daily in the patient, and was rarely satisfied until he
saw it. He regarded that as an indication of the sur-
render of the enemy, which, forsooth, he fought with
most phenomenal and fortuitous results, and he left
the impress of this therapy both upon the laity and
profession of his day, to an extent that thirty years or
more only served to moderate. To the majority of the
medical men of this vicinage to within a comparatively
recent period, mercury was known, if not regarded, as
the "Samson" of the materia medica. Had he known at
that day of the theory of the microbic origin of all dis-
eases, he would have been strengthened even in his
faith in the great phagocyte, if such a thing were pos-
sible.

Of the doctors living and in practise when I joined
the faculty — and a most able and honorable body of
men they were, as a rule — I can speak particularly of
those with whom I came mostly in contact. One of
them was Dr. John F. Peebles. He was then about
thirty-four years old, handsome, accomplished, debon-
air, popular — especially amongst the ladies — a student,

Petersburg in the Fifties 119

and advanced in his ideas of medicine beyond the rou-
tine practise of the day. He died at the early age of
thirty-nine, but two years before his death he pub-
lished two essays, one on Intermittent Fever and the
other on Prolapsus Uteri, both of which took the prize
for which he competed, and attracted marked atten-
tion in the profession. With the exception of Dr. R.
L. Madison, to whom I refer elsewhere, he was my most
intimate friend amongst the faculty, and I felt his loss
very keenly. He was gentle and tender-hearted, and,
as such men always are, was cheerful and courageous.
When dying, a friend standing by said to him, "Doctor,
are you going to sleep?" "Yes," he replied, smiling,
"my left lung is filling fast; the right will soon follow.
I am going to sleep and I shall awaken no more." In a
little while sleep had come, and as he was the first of
my friends and compeers to die, the scene impressed
me with a vividness that yet remains, and which time
and change and many experiences of many years with
death, at the bedside or on the battlefield, have never
dimmed. His patients loved Dr. Peebles with a love
that such a man would naturally inspire, and after his
death erected in the old Blandford Cemetery a granite
shaft to his memory, with the simple but touching in-
scription, "I was sick, and ye visited me."

Another member of the faculty with whom I was
mostly thrown was Dr. J. J. Thweatt, a man personally
the opposite of Dr. Peebles ; maimed by gout and by the
accident of a badly-broken leg, he was awkward in his
gait, uncouth — sometimes to rudeness — in manner, and
would impress a stranger unfavorably. He, though
born in the vicinage of the city, had lived abroad many
years engaged in the study of physic in the schools and
hospitals of Europe, and was a master in his profession,
both as a physician and surgeon. It was owing to this
fact, probably, in his long absence from home and home

120 Scvcnty-iive Years in Old Virginia

people, that he was so seemingly indifferent to the most
of those with whom he came in contact. But his pro-
fessional brethren early recognized his worth, and he
was more sought in consultation than any other mem-
ber of the faculty. He possessed the rare qualification
for a doctor — a combination of scientific knowledge and
practical common sense; and though seemingly indif-
ferent, apparently to coldness, he loved his profession,
especially the humanity of it, and never considered him-
self in the service of his fellows. Indeed, he lost his
life in waiting on a poor worthless waif who had noth-
ing to compensate him for his attention, and no claim
upon the doctor, except that he was sick and in pain
and peril. It was my fortune for many years before Dr.
Thweatt's death to be his partner and share his office,
and to enter perhaps more fully than any other man into
his confidence, and to know more of his inner life, and
I am glad to have an opportunity of recording here
that I never knew a better physician, a truer friend, or
a more warm-hearted and honorable gentleman.

Another of the old physicians who received me in the
faculty, and to whom I was often indebted for kind-
nesses which I had no right to expect, was Dr. Luke
White. Dr. White was a native of New Hampshire,
but came South in early Hfe to Portsmouth, Virginia,
first, I believe, but commenced the practise of medicine
in Petersburg in the young years of the last century. He
died a short time before the commencement of the war
between the States — died, after he had passed his three
score and ten, of a rapidly-maturing attack of pulmon-
ary phthisis, the oldest person whom I have ever known
to die of that disease. He was an excellent physician,
thoroughly trained in every branch of medicine, but
especially adept in the art of obstetrics. I cannot recall
any physician whom I thought more skilful in that par-
ticular department of practise. As a man he was gentle,

Petersburg in the Pi f tics 12 i

unassuming, modest as a woman, charitable in word
and in deed. "Speaking no evil, and thinking no evil"
of anybody. He was a model of the true man in all of
his measurements.

Another man of note amongst the faculty of Peters-
burg in 1850 was Dr. P. C. Spencer. Dr. Spencer was
an old bachelor on the shady side of the marrying line,
but he was a great beau, gallant, and assiduous in his
attentions to ladies, especially young ladies. He often
said to me that he should "be married in ninety days,"
and when I would ask "who was the happy recipient of
his favor," he would bravely answer that he "had not
quite made up his mind as to the especial young lady."
Poor fellow ! He died in 1859 o^ i860, well advanced in
years, indeed an old man, but he never realized his
bright anticipations — he died a bachelor. In speaking
of his professional character I would say that he was a
born surgeon. It is true there was no such thing as a
specialist in his day. Doctors had not then divided the
body amongst themselves, and taken, one the arm, and
one the leg, and one the eye, and one the ears, and one
the mouth, and one the stomach, etc. They had studied
the anatomy of the whole body, the position of organs
in place, and their relations, local and physiological;
and they had studied medicine in every branch of it,
and they were capable of practising every branch of it.
But some physician would occasionally show himself
more adept in one branch than another, or he would
show more fondness for one branch than another, and
so far, and thus far only, he was a specialist. After this
manner was Dr. Spencer a surgeon. He had especially
good opportunity for the study of surgery for several
years under Dupuytren in Paris, and he availed himself
of the opportunity. But he cared more for the art than
the science of surgery. He was bold to recklessness in
his operations, but his success was marvelous. At the

122 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

time of his death he had operated for stone in the blad-
der as often as any man in this country, except per-
haps Dudley, of Kentucky, and with as good results. He
did not trouble himself apparently about the anatomy
of the parts on which he was to use the knife, and occa-
sionally severed a blood vessel, which gave no little an-
noyance to his assistant. For instance, in operating for
stone he always used Dupuytren's doubled, concealed
lithotome, and made a light matter of dividing the pubic
artery. But his success, as I have remarked, was phe-
nomenal. This was attributable to three things: ist,
the great care with which he prepared his patients for
an operation ; 2d, to a freedom in the use of soap and
water, rendering both himself and his patients as
nearly aseptic as possible; and, 3d, to his care and
watchfulness of his patients after an operation. He also
used in his operations a solution of creosote in alcohol,
a most excellent antiseptic, though such a term was not
in use at that time, and the doctor had never heard of
microbes, and believed in pus — "laudable pus." The
use of the antiseptic at that day must have been in-
stinctive, or one of those curious coincidences often
seen in the practise of physic, where the experienced
use of a remedy was eventually sustained by scientific
knowledge. A case often seen in other departments of
life, where art precedes science.

Amongst the older and noted members of the fac-
ulty at the time were the two Mays — Drs. Ben. and
James May. The former of these gentlemen was blind
— had been blind almost from the commencement of his
practise, soon after his graduation, some forty years
before. But by force of intellect, shrewd, hard sense,
courage and will, he had forged his way to the front
amongst men who were no pigmies, and he stood easily
■umcs inter pares. As is often the case amongst the blind,
nature seemed to have supplemented his loss of sight

Petersburg in the Fifties 123

by rendering his other senses so acute that he really
did not appear to need any vision. He had a good prac-
tise and was much sought in consultation. He was the
only doctor in the city at that time who practised in a
buggy or gig. Physicians at that time rode on horse-
back or did their practise on foot.

Dr. James May, his brother and partner in practise,
was a younger man, though not young. He was plain of
dress, plain of speech, careless of his person to a fault,
but professionally shrewd of diagnosis, hard of sense,
accurate of judgment, conservative in conduct, and
skilful in treatment of a case. I was indebted to him
for much personal kindness and for much professional
help. An incident in the life of the Doctor is so strik-
ing, and so illustrative of the customs and ways of a
certain class of the country people of that day, that I
am constrained to record it. It was not unusual when
the doctor called, after a patient was convalescent and
needed no further attention, for the master of the
family to bring out a roll of bank notes, or more com-
monly a bag of specie, Spanish or American silver dol-
lars, and, opening the mouth, dump it down on the
table and say, "Doctor, pay yourself," and modestly and
trustingly look away for a minute. On the occasion to
which I refer, we had been attending a negro slave,
very valuable, worth perhaps twelve or fifteen hundred
dollars, and as he was suf^ciently well to require no
further medical service, the Doctor announced the fact
to his master, a plain old country farmer, who only
owned a few slaves. The old man, as the Doctor antici-
pated, brought out his bag of specie, and placing it on
the table spread the mouth open wide, with the usual
remark, "Doctors, pay yourselves." The Doctor had
a remarkably large hand, and as he went for the "pay,"
it really looked much larger than usual. The old man
noticed it, and his confidence failed him, and just as the

1^4 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Doctor was about to "pay himself," he touched him on
the shoulder and said, "Doctor, before you put your
hand in that bag, remember there is a God in Heaven
looking at you." The arrest was so sudden and unex-
pected that the Doctor's face was a study, but it did not
stop him entirely, and he helped himself. After get-
ting away, however, he asked me if I heard what "that
old devil said to him," adding, "he scared me so that I
did not get half my pay," and he often recalled the inci-
dent afterwards, and enjoyed the recital of it, but he did
not enjoy it at the time.

Two other representative men of the faculty at that
time were Drs. Walter Jones and Joseph Cox. They
had each been residents and practitioners of physic in
Petersburg for many years. Dr. Jones had an office and
residence at the corner of Union and West Tabb
Streets, the location of the present Post Office Build-
ing. He sold this property to the United States Gov-
ernment for a handsome sum, and shortly afterwards,
kaving inherited a fine estate in Gloucester county, re-
moved there. He was a man of great eccentricity, but
always had a large practise, and w^as a good physician
and a genial, generous gentleman.

Dr. Cox bore the reputation of being an excellent
physician, and had a good practise, especially in the
county of Chesterfield, of which he was a native. But
he was fond of excitement, drifted into politics, repre-
sented the city in the State Legislature, and paid not
much attention to his profession for several years be-
fore his death, which was tragic and untimely. On the
17th and i8th of January, 1857, occurred the worst
storm of snow and the most intense cold that had ever
been known in this section. For several days trade and
travel were almost entirely suspended in the city and
the surrounding country. In the most intense fury of
the storm, Dr. Cox, taking a young friend with him,

Petersburg in the Fifties 125

Mr. Traylor, in a spirit of daring and against the pro-
test of his friends, undertook to visit, in an open buggy,
his brother, Judge Cox, who lived about eighteen or
twenty miles from the city. Before reaching his des-
tination he was overtaken by night, and frozen to death.
'1 he young man with him lost both of his legs from
freezing, but survived a few weeks, never, of course, re-
covering from the shock.

Of the other members of the faculty of i85o-'57,
who received me, and with whom i was perhaps not so
intimately acquainted, i have to record of them that
they were gentlemen of probity, of honor, and of re-
pute— good physicians and good citizens. My inter-
course with all of them was agreeable and kindly, with
but one exception, and that was perhaps more my fault
than his. 1 would recall, if I could, my part in the ditti-
culty which occurred between us. Mutual friends prob-
ably were responsible for the trouble, but 1 have no
apology to make for myself nor desire to inculpate
others. I prefer to suffer the pain of the consciousness
of the unnecessary hurt which I did him. Years ago
he rendered his account — mine must soon follow.

One other gentleman besides myself is left whose
name is found on the roster of the medical faculty at
the annual meeting of November, 185 1 — Dr. W. A.
Dudley.* The Doctor at that time was a young man
of fine address, fine means and fine associations. He
was connected with some of the best and wealthiest
people of this section, who were loyal to the relation-
ship, and who employed him freely and I think com-
pensated him generously. In addition he had the good
fortune to draw a prize of $20,000 in a lottery which
was kept on Bank Street by Mr. Fred. Anthony. There
were two or three lotteries in Petersburg at that time.

*Since deceased, 1903.

126 Seventy -five Years in Old Virginia

licensed by the city and State, and prizes were not in-
frequently drawn by adventurous investing in chance.
1 remember another chance that the Doctor drew, a
beautiful Kentucky bride, and I recall one of the most
elegant repasts, at the old mansion house on Market
Street, which I ever attended.

Thus I have written of the men of Petersburg —
business and professional men — whom I met and knew
fifty years ago, and whose lives and characters main-
tained the name and reputation of the city as they re-
ceived it from their fathers, and whose virtues their
sons have illustrated in the courage and fortitude with
which they met the convulsive upheaval of a civilization
and the destruction of institutions which had meant in
the past honor, and peace, and safety; sons who, when
surpassed by numbers, and disarmed, and beaten down
under the foot of the hireling soldier and the slave, ac-
cepted, with a patience and dignity that commanded the
admiration even of their foes, the oppression of tyranny
and the insolence of office, until malice exhausted itself,
and the sentiment of the nation and of the world de-
manded that opportunity be given them to rise.

How they accepted that opportunity, with what vigor
and spirit they arose, how they despised the miserable
travesty of the government of carpet-baggers and scala-
wags, and placed municipal authority again in the hands
of honest citizenship, let the present prosperity of the
city attest.

Let her bonds, her 1)anks, her credit, her schools —
public and private, her merchants, her foundries, her
factories, her busy streets, her railroads, her commerce
— extending to the ends of the earth — attest. And to
her magnanimity let her colored schools, in numbers
and in excellence, surpassed by none in this country;
and let the Normal School or College, just outside of

Petersburg in the Fifties 127

her borders, for colored students, male and female, an
institution with appointments and regime unsurpassed
by any similar institution anywhere ; and let the beauti-
ful Asylum for Colored Insane, just outside of her lim-
its, where more than a thousand of this unfortunate
class receive the most humane and scientific care and
treatment — let all these attest. And to her fealty to the
new or Federal Government, and to her proud and pa-
triotic spirit, let the fact attest that when the call was
made five years ago for troops to uphold the flag and
to defend the institutions of the country, two companies
responded at once, and hastened to the front. This the
present generation can know and can attest ; but it
seems difiticult for them to know, and more difficult to
appreciate, the fearful ravages of war, and the more
fearful humiliation of reconstruction, when might made
right a quarter of a century ago.

CHAPTER III

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period.

Politics in the Past — The Two Parties of the Day — The Alliance
of the Whig and Know-Nothing Parties to Fight the Democratic
Party— The Wreck of the Whig Party— My First Vote Cast
With the Democratic Party — Nominated by the Democratic
Party for the House of Delegates — An Unwilling and Unex-
pected Launch Upon the Sea of Politics — Everything Goes
Democratic — Some Account of Events in the Exciting Sectional
Drama Leading to the Outbreak of Hostilities — A Nefarious
Mission — The John Brown Raid the First Gun of the Fight —
I Decline Re-election, But Am Renominated Against My Wish
and Elected — Serve in i8s7-'58 and Again in i859-'6a— An Ac-
count of Events and Measures Immediately Preceding the War
— My Position Made Clear — Speeches in the Senate and Else-
where—The Nominations of the National Conventions — The
Secession Convention — The Peace Conference — The Call for
Troops From Virginia by the Government, the Last Straw —
The Union Men of Virginia — A Visit to Washington and Some
Things Heard and Seen — Opinions of Eminent Men North and
South — Governor Letcher's Pre ;lamation.

And now, having recalled the institutions of Peters-
burg in 1850, its business, i 's banks, its commerce, its
manufactures, and its men, we naturally turn to its poli-
tics. In accordance with the people of Virginia at
large, so the people of Petersburg loved political ex-
citement, and the eloquence and ardor and badinage of
the political speakers, candidates, and contestants for
office themselves, or representing such nominees of
their relative parties.

The two parties of that day were the Whig and
Democratic. All citizens were arrayed under the ban-
ner of one or the other. The term Whig had lieen used
as far back as 1649, in v^cotland, as distinguishing those
who were opposed to the Crown, but in this country
just came into use in 1776, designating those who, in

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 129

contradistinction from Tories, favored the independ-
ence of the colonies, then subject to Great Britain. As
a party it first came into Hfe in 1828, or rather during
the administration of Jackson. The party supporting
Jackson for the presidency, against Adams, his oppo-
nent, was called the Democratic Republican Party; the
party supporting Adams was called the National Re-
publican. When, in 1833, Jackson removed the de-
posits from the United States Bank, this was considered
a violent and tyrannical usurpation of power, and the
party which had opposed his election now bitterly de-
nounced him, and took upon themselves the name of
Whigs, and the Democratic Republicans were called
Democrats. To be a Whig meant bitter hostility to
Jackson ; to be a Democrat meant to be a vigorous up-
holder of Jackson. This feeling was intensified in both
parties by the enunciation of President Jackson that "to
the victors belong the spoils," that "our enemies must
be punished, our friends rewarded." Under this rancor
the parties were more bitterly divided than ever, and on
the termination of Jackson's administration the Whigs
brought out Harrison and Tyler, evidently in view of
the availability of the candidates, and without any logi-
cal or definite declaration of principles. They elected
their candidate, and on the death of Harrison, soon af-
ter his inauguration, Mr. Tyler became President. Dis-
claiming any obligation to carry out measures not de-
fined in the politica.1 programme on which he was
elected, he at once went over to the Democratic Party,
and though an honest, able, and faithful executor,
called down upon himself a storm of wrath and objur-
gation that would have crushed a man less fearless and
conscientious.

At the expiration of Tyler's administration, the
Whigs rallied again under the leadership of Mr. Clay,
one of the ablest statesmen whom the country ever
9

130 Sci'eitty-fk'c Years in Old Virginia

produced, and on this occasion adopted and promul-
gated a programme "pledging a well-regulated national
currency; a tariff for revenue to defray the expenses of
the government, discriminating in form of protecting
the products of home industry and home labor; sales of
the public lands and distribution amongst the States ;
single term for the Presidency and reform in execu-
tive usurpation." They went before the country on the
asseveration of these principles, and Mr. Clay was de-
feated. In 1848 they again rallied under the leadership
of General Taylor, who had won distinction in the
Mexican War, and was deservedly popular with the
people, and were successful, again getting possession
of the Executive branch of the Government. But they
were soon handicapped by dissensions in the ranks.
Sectional feeling was becoming more and more intense.
It was increased by the introduction in Congress of the
Wilmot Proviso preventing the introduction of slavery
into the common territories of the country. The South-
ern AVhigs gradually failed to co-operate with their
Northern brethren, many of them drifted into the
Democratic Party (General Jackson, whom they so
hated, was now dead), and the Northern Whigs, half-
hearted, began to look for other combinations. The
Whig Party was virtually disbanded in 18^2, splitting
into Northern and Southern wings on the slavery ques-
tion; but in the desperate eft'ort to dispute the su-
premacy of the Democratic Party, it formed an alli-
ance with the American or Know-Nothing Part}^ a
party having for its avowed object the restriction of
the right of suffrage to foreigners, and the partial
political ostracism of Catholics. Tt got as far South as
Virginia in i854-'55 — a secret organization with its
"grips," pass-word "Sam," and its battle-cry "Put none
on guard to-night." two .Americanisms attributing
these words to an order of \\'ashington whilst in his

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 131

sorest peril on the Delaware, but not at all in conform-
ity with the counsel of his Farewell Address, in which
he warned his countrymen of the danger of secret po-
litical societies.

Whether by accident or by order this fight in the
last ditch was made on the soil of Virginia, we do not
know; but in the struggle for the ascendency, in the
campaign of 1855, Henry A. Wise, leading the Democ-
racy as candidate for Governor, a struggle, marked by
great excitement and punctuated by great personal bit-
terness, the Whig Party met its final defeat, the State
going Democratic by 10,000 majority.

The Whig Party to that date had undoubtedly repre-
sented the conservative element of Virginia. It was the
party that had always represented the culture and the
wealth of the State. It was the party of the cities and
of the older and eastern sections of the State, the party
of the low grounds on the big rivers, and the party of
the owners of the old colonial mansions. It had be-
come an old saw that "Whigs knew each other by the
instincts of gentlemen." With its wreck, therefore,
there went down many of the best, the purest, the
strongest, and the most patriotic representatives of a
time-honored policy. Some of the younger men, scions
of the old Whig families, had commenced to withdraw
from the party under the strong presentation of Demo-
cratic doctrine, as taught by Wayland in the text-book
of Political Economy used in the colleges and schools
of that day. The extension of the right of suffrage to
the unwashed suffragans, in Virginia, occurring about
the same period, made it apparent also to the young
man ambitious of office that he would have to court
popular favor under the guise of the popular party. The
old men left their old lines and old associates slowly
and haltingly, and some felt it proper that they should
turn back and give a reason to their fellow-citizens for

13-2 Scz'ciify-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia

the radical change in their opinions and followings.
Judge Thomas S. Gholson pnbHshed a pamphlet en-
titled ''Why Old Line Whigs Should Attach Them-
selves to the Democratic Party," an able and lucid ex-
position of the existing conditions in politics, a paper
which, strong in itself, bore additional weight from the
fact that it emanated from one of the oldest and most
honored and trustworthy of the old Whigs.

The young Whig who came into citizenship at this
juncture, say from 1850 to 1855, found a hard problem
to solve, a problem more difficult than any he had en-
countered in Euclid or in the Calculi, just left behind
him at college — the problem of how he should shape
his course, true to himself, true to his State, and true to
the heritage and traditions of his fathers. It so hap-
pened that I was one of those young Virginians. My
ancestry all the way down from the American Revolu-
tion to the gates of my father's house were Whigs. I
had drunk deeply from boyhood of the traditions which
had elevated the name of "Whig" as the shibboleth of
gentleman and patriot ; and "Democrat," as I received
it, was a synonym of Demagogue.

But as my views became enlarged by study and my
vision extended by observation, I became convinced
that the true policy of our Government consisted in car-
rying out the principles promulgated by Democratic
formula — sovereignty of the States, restriction of the
power of the President, economic administration of the
finances, a tariff for revenue only, no sales or absorp-
tion of the public lands for public improvement, a
sound currency based upon silver and gold, and banks
disconnected with, and independent of, the Govern-
ment. I cast my first vote in 1852 or 1853, and voted
Avith the Democratic Party, giving pain and surprise to
mv friends, followed by greater pain and greater sur-
prise in 1855, when I accepted the nomination of the

Politics of the Antc-BcUum Period 133

Democratic Party for the House of Delegates of the
General Assembly of Virginia. I say accepted — I
neither courted, expected, nor wished for the nomi-
nation. I was not present in the convention which
nominated me. I was very young — comparatively
a stranger to the great majority of the peo-
ple of Petersburg, with no political affiliation and
no political aspirations. I was fond of quiet, loved
general literature, and had marked out my course as a
student and practitioner of the science and the art of
medicine, and to that I was devoting my best energies,
with good prospect of early and pronounced success. I
was flattered by the unanimity and urgency of a call
which I could not understand, but the honor of which
was unmistakable and well appreciated. It invited me
to contend for a position which up to that period had
been sought by the highest type of the citizen, and
which had been filled only by men representative of
that class. I could not afford to ignore it. I saw that
it would break in for a time certainly, and perhaps per-
manently, upon the plans and purposes of Hfe as I had
laid them, but there were duties which a man owed to
the State as binding and as imperative as those which
he owed to himself.

These seemed to me the duties of the hour, and,
without consultation or conference with any one, I ac-
cepted the nomination. It was a sudden transition, as
if from the cloister of the student to the stormy
harangue of the Hustings. Of course it was an inter-
ruption of professional work and a draft upon new re-
sources of mind and person, but how great the change
of life and pursuit this demanded can only be appre-
ciated by those who remember the exciting scenes and
who participated in the embittered disputes of the
political campaign of 1855. After all, however, it
proved but the prelude to a play of greater tragedy

134 Sc7'CiUy-fi:'C Years in Old Virgmia

which, placed upon the boards five years subsequently,
startled the world by the immensity of its ghastly hor-
rors— a play in which a million and a half of actors went
down in blood.

I was on the Hustings more or less continuously
from the commencement of the campaign in the spring
to the final vote in the fall. In companionship with,
and sustained by, such men as Henry A. Wise.
Roger Pryor, Timothy Rives, and some others, all
men of force and unsurpassed for fiery invective, for
thrilling eloquence, for immovable logic, my position
was not difficult to hold ; and I must confess that as my
blood warmed in the combat, I enjoyed the melee. I
refused, however, to mingle amongst the people, never
asked a vote, never contributed to a "treating fund,"
nor expended a dollar except for the legitimate pur-
pose of hiring and lighting halls or paying the ex-
penses of visitinp- speakers, and I thereby incurred the
displeasure of some one or two leaders. One of these
did not hesitate to say that I was ''an aristocrat — above
the people," and bet and voted against me. But I
proved the good sense of the people and their apprecia-
tion of honest manhood by coming out in the end ahead
of my party vote.

The city went Democratic, the State went Demo-
cratic, the United States went Democratic. Buchanan,
the Democratic candidate, receiving 174 electoral
votes ; Fremont, the Black Republican candidate (they
were called Black Republicans at that day), received
104; and Fillmore, the American candidate, 8. The
National Democratic triumph, however, was short-
lived. Defections became more and more common in
the Democratic ranks, as one and another, yielding to
sectional feeling or sectional demand, went over to
the enemy — not the Whig Party, but the Republican.
When Congress assembled on the ist of December,

Politics of the Antc-BeUum Period 135

1855, the Republicans were strong enough to dispute
for the ascendency, and after 133 ballots, elected N. P.
Banks, of Massachusetts, speaker, and so got control
of the House. This was the beginning of the end of
both of the old, time-honored, patriotic parties — Whig
and Democratic, which, however bitterly they had
fought each other for more than thirty years, had
fought upon honest differences in the construction of
the Constitution, and upon the wisdom or unwisdom of
policies dictated ; not by sectional hate, sectional jeal-
ousy, nor by a partisanship born of personal avarice and
personal fanaticism. Another four years saw both of
them swept from the political arena, though the fights
in the National House of Representatives seemed con-
tests between giants and pigmies. Eloquence, argu-
ment, invective was wasted upon ambitious leaders or
their gibbering followers ; and before another President
took his seat. State after State in the South withdrew
from the arena, and recalled their Congressmen, whose
voices and whose votes counted as nothing in the coun-
cils of a nation which foreshadowed the death of or-
ganic law by elevating to its priesthood a citizen who
denounced the Constitution as a "League with hell,
and a covenant with the Devil."

But to return to Virginia. The Legislature elected
during the stormy canvass of 1855 convened on the ist
of December of that year, and in the following January
Henry A. Wise was inaugurated Governor.

Whilst the Know-Nothing Party had met its defeat
and its death, the two parties, Whig and Democratic,
still maintained to some extent their separate organiza-
tion. There was but little occasion to draw the divi-
sion of party lines. The Legislature was busied mostly
in railroad building and in finance. John B. Floyd, for-
merly a Governor of the State and subsequently Secre-
tary of War under Buchanan, Chairman of the Commit-

136 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

tee of Roads and Internal Navigation, championed the
cause of the railroads. The unwise, extravagant, and
destructive policy of net-working the State with roads
running parallel with each other, and competing for the
patronage of the same sections, and the worse policy of
starting a road from the confines of the State, direct-
ing it to the sea, and to the cities and ports of the State,
and then tapping it at every point where travel or trade
could be diverted to communities outside of and inim-
ical to the Commonwealth, had just been inaugurated,
and \\2iS being developed under what was known as the
system of "log-rolling," viz: you support my measure
and I will support yours — never mind your oath to
make the law for the good of the whole. In 1859 the
State had up to that date expended between twenty-
nine and thirty millions of dollars in this so-called sys-
tem of internal improvements, the State holding three-
fifths interest and private individuals two-fifths. The
clamor ceased after that session for more money to "de-
velop the resources of the State." What proportion of
this thirty millions was ever returned to State or citi-
zen it would be difiicult to estimate. It would be safe
probably to say — to the State nothing, to the citizen
less.

Alien corporations own the railroads, and one of their
presidents naively said in a public meeting, "the roads
will be run in the interest of the owners" — and the own-
ers are not citizens.

When the General Assembly of i859-'6o convened,
a graver problem was presented, viz : How shall the
autonomy of the State itself be preserved ? How shall
the liberty of the citizen and his property be secured?
The right of a citizen of Virginia to carry his property,
his slaves, to Massachusetts, as guaranteed by the fugi-
tive-slave law, or into the common territory of the
United States, as provided for in the Kansas-Nebraska

Politics of the Ante-BeUuni Period 137

Act, was not denied ; but the liberty and life of the citi-
zen who attempted to do so were endangered and as-
sailed with riot and bloodshed. Not only so, but emis-
saries were sent from Northern States to entice and
steal the slave of the Southerner, and to incite them to
arms and murder.

On the 30th of May, 1858, a barque, the Kesiah, from
Brandywine, Delaware, tied up at the wharf of Peters-
burg on this nefarious mission, and before exciting any
suspicion, had gotten away with five runaway slaves.
She was followed down the river, however, by a
steamer, on which were several policemen and several
citizens, and overhauled and searched. The negroes
were found stowed away in the hold of the vessel. Her
captain, Bayliss, was arrested and brought back to the
city and tried on five indictments for kidnapping, found
guilty on each, and sentenced to eight years in the peni-
tentiary on each, forty years in all, though he was ably
defended by two of the most prominent lawyers of the
city, Messrs. Jones and May. It was said that he re-
mained in the penitentiary until released by the Fed-
erals on the capture of Richmond in 1865. This inci-
dent not only served to awaken our citizens to a sense
of the insecurity of their property, with secret emis-
saries plotting crime on their streets, but it also
aroused resentment toward a people who, under the
guise of friends, could arm and employ such emissaries
as robbers and assassins to do their own dirty work. But
let us suppose, as many of our people did suppose, that
this was but the work of a few fanatics, and that our
Northern brethren did not all endorse the injustice and
wrong perpetrated upon a people who had done them
no evil, and who had a right to claim, and to expect,
equal rights and equal protection under the law and the
Constitution of the whole country.

138 Sci'ciity-ft:r Years iu Old Jlrginia

This episode fades into nothing beside another, the
tragic scenes of which were enacted a year afterwards,
when Virginia was invaded by John Brown. This man
had not only been notorious for his lawlessness in par-
ticipating in the troubles in Kansas in i857-'58, but as
a murderer and assassin had forfeited his hfe to justice,
though he had been allowed to go free, even after hav-
ing been captured by a detachment of United States
troops under Colonel Sumner, sent to suppress his vio-
lence.

Collecting a number of young men in that territory,
with several of his sons, he came East, went to Canada
in the spring of 1858, and assembled what he called a
convention, and formed a constitution. This conven-
tion, after appointing a committee with full power to
fill all executive, legislative, judicial, and military of-
fices named in the constitution adopted, adjourned sine
die. Brown then took his party to Ohio and disbanded
them, subject to recall, but sent one of the number,
Captain John E. Cook, of Connecticut, to Virginia,
who, under the guise of a book-agent, teacher, or some-
thing of that sort, made himself familiar with the coun-
try about Harpers Ferry, the location of the United
States armory, and furnished such information to his
leader as he thought advisable. In July, 1859, Brown
himself, under the assumed name of Isaac Smith, ap-
peared in the neighborhood of Harpers Ferry, with
two of his sons and a son-in-law, giving out that he was
a farmer from New York wishing to rent or purchase
lands. Further to conceal his real purposes he rented
a small farm some four miles from Harpers Ferry,
where he did a little farming, prospecting, etc. In the
meantime he kept several of his men at Chambersburg,
Pennsylvania, who forwarded arms and ammunition to
him at his habitation. On the loth of October he is-
sued ''General Order No. i," from "Headquarters War

Politics of the Ante-BeUnm Period 139

Department, Provisional Army, Harpers Ferry," or-
ganizing his command, line and staff; and soon after
moved to a school-house near Harpers Ferry, where
hundreds of carbines, pikes, pistols, etc., were stored
for the purpose of arming the negro slaves when they
should rise in insurrection against the whites. On Sun-
day night following October i6th. Brown, with fourteen
white men and five negroes, all fully armed and all
from Northern States, crossed over the Potomac into
Virginia, overpowered the watchmen at the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad bridge, and at the United States
armory and arsenal, and established himself in a thick-
walled brick building at the armory gate. He then sent
out Cook, his spy, and Stevens, one of his so-called
captains, and six of his men to the residence of Colonel
L. W. Washington, whom they captured, and forced
him and four of his servants to accompany them ; next
they captured on their way back Mr. Alstadt and six
of his servants, placing arms in the hands of the latter ;
then captured some forty citizens of Harpers Ferry,
and confined them all in one room of the brick house
which he had selected as his quarters or fort, keeping
them, as he said, for hostages.

The first person slain by the insurgents was a negro
porter at the railroad, then Mr. Beckham, the mayor ^
of Harpers Ferry, and then Mr. '^, W. Turner, a prom- ^
inent citizen of Jefiferson County, all unarmed. News
of these occurrences spread rapidly and by noon of the
17th, volunteer troops from Charles Town, from Shep-
herdstown, and Martinsburg, had hurried to the scene ;
and Colonel Baylor, taking charge of them, forced the
insurgents into the armory enclosure, and surrounded
it by a cordon of pickets. Brown then withdrew his
men into the gate-house, which he proceeded to loop-
hole, and from these openings fired upon all white men
who came in sight. By the night of the 17th other

I40 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

companies of volunteer troops arrived from Winches-
ter, from Frederick City, and from Maryland, and a
company of United States marines, who had been sent
by the Secretary of War, accompanied by Lieut. -Col.
R. E. Lee, of the Second Cavalry, who happened to be
at his home at Arlington on a furlough, and Lieut. J. E.
B. Stuart, his aide. Colonel Lee was ordered to take
command, recapture the United States property, and
restore order. On the morning of the i8th Colonel
Lee disposed of the volunteer troops around the
grounds so as to prevent escape of the insurgents
and sent Lieutenant Stuart, under flag of truce, to the
brick house with a summons to Brown to surrender.
This summons Brown indignantly refused, and Lee or-
dered forward the marines, under Lieutenant Green,
with orders to break down the doors with a ladder used
as a battering-ram. This quickly ended the contest,
and the troops, fearing to fire lest they should injure
the citizen hostages, bayoneted the insurgents that re-
sisted. Lieutenant Green cutting Brown down with his
sword. Brown's fire must have been very inefifective,
as only one marine was killed. Ten of the white men,
and two of the negroes with Brown, were killed dur-
ing the fight. Brown and two white men and two
negroes were captured, and turned over, by order of
J. B. Floyd, Secretary of War, to the sheriff of Jeffer-
son County. Cook escaped, but was afterwards cap-
tured and hung. Brown recovered from his wound,
and with his accomplices was indicted and tried at the
regular fall term of the Circuit Court of the county
for treason and murder. His prosecution was conduct-
ed by Hon. Andrew Hunter, and he was defended by
Hon. D. W. Voorhees, of Indiana, and other counsel
of his selection, but, with his accomplices, found guilty,
condemned, and executed. The trial lasted nearly a
month, and as Brown admitted himself, was fair and

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 141

impartial. During the trial so many threats of rescue
were made by the Northern people, and papers, that
several hundred troops were kept under arms at Charles
Town, costing the State of Virginia a heavy sum.

This episode not only created great excitement in
Virginia, but aroused the indignation of the whole
Southern people against the North. It opened the eyes
of the Southern people to the great gulf which separat-
ed them from the North, a gulf not wide enough nor
deep enough to insure them safety nor to secure them
from rapine and murder.

It was vain to say that these were the acts of a fa-
natic and a madman. Unhappily, this was not true, or,
if true, there were thousands of madmen and assassins
and traitors at his back, proclaiming a higher law than
the law of their country, and a law calling for "pikes for
the slave-holder, fire for his dwelling, and poison for
his water!"

Instead of receiving sympathy and support from her
Northern brethren in capturing and executing with
form of law a notorious murderer, who even the semi-
civilized settlers of Kansas drove from their State, Vir-
ginia was denounced throughout the North, her Gov-
ernor threatened with death, and John Brown received
the honor of an apotheosis. Let us recall some of the
current events and the publications of the day. In
many churches of the North services of humiliation and
prayer were held on the day of his execution. Minute
guns were fired, an immense meeting was held in Fre-
mont Temple, Boston, and amongst other bitter
speeches, Mr. J. I. A. Griffin declared that "The heinous
ofTense of Pilate in crucifying Jesus whitened into vir-
tue when compared with that of Governor Wise in his
conduct toward John Brown." Church bells were
tolled, and similar meetings held in dififerent portions
of the North, and resolutions passed in honor of the

142 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

"martyr" ; and Southern people were given to under-
stand if they continued to contend for their constitu-
tional right to hold slaves, which their fathers had
bought from New England or Northern slaveholders,
that, in the future, they must expect to be subject to
rapine and slaughter. Wendell Philips said in Beech-
er's Church in Brooklyn that John Brown had as much
right to hang Governor Wise as he had to hang John
Brown, and that "On the banks of the Potomac his-
tory will visit that river more kindly because John
Brown has gilded it with the eternal brightness of his
glorious deed, than because the dust of Washington
rested upon one side of it."

These sentiments were endorsed by a great many
papers. More than this, it was proven that Brown's
purposes were known beforehand to such men as Sew-
ard, Sumner, Chase, and others high in authority, who,
if they did not approve, took no steps to thwart them.
Governor Andrews, of Massachusetts, said that John
Brown was right.

But let us return to the political condition of the
country, and especially of Virginia, during these evil
times. Recurring to my personal narrative, when my
term of service of two year? expired, for which I had
been elected to the lower house of the General As-
sembly of Virginia, I declined to stand for re-election.
But when the convention was called to nominate a can-
didate for the upper house, the Senate, for the City of
Petersburg and the County of Prince George, which
were then in one district, my name was presented to
that body by Dr. Harrison, of Prince George, and my
nomination urged. This was wholly without ni}' knowl-
edge or consent, and as I was present in the conven-
tion, I not only declined, but nominated in my place a
young friend of mine, Mr. John Y. Gholson, a law-
yer of the city, who desired to enter politics, and

Politics of the Aiifc-Belluui Period 143

who was the worthy son of the disting'uished lawyer
before referred to in these pages, Mr. Thomas Ghol-
sbn. I not only declined the nomination, but pressed
my friend's claims honestly and vigorously. I did not
wish to remain on the political arena. I had passed
through one stormy and bitter campaign successfully,
and I thought I saw before me in the near future
events calculated to arouse the passions of men and to
separate chief friends ; events of a gravity never weigh-
ed before in any recent time, and upon which good
men and good citizens would certainly be divided. I
was willing for some one else, more fond than I of con-
tention, and an abler advocate, to leap to the front, and
to hold the standard of the party. But my efforts for
my friend, and my persistent declination of the honor
of the nomination were drowned in the "No — noes"
of the Convention, and it adjourned, and forced me
upon the people, an unwilling candidate. However,
there was honor in such a call that no man, and es-
pecially no young man, could afiford to despise; and
both personal pride and a sense of duty as a citizen im-
pelled me to accept the situation and to enter upon the
canvass. The opposition, as much of it as had been left
after the demolition of the Know-Nothing Party, nom-
inated Col. Williamson Simmons, of the County of
Prince George, a wealthy planter, a man of large con-
nections, and of great popularity, an Old Line Whig;
but there were only few men willing to rally to what was
esteemed a broken standard, and I had an easy victory.
This, however, was but a prelude to another play, the
calm before the coming storm ; and when the legisla-
ture met on the December following, no public man
with any sense of the responsibility of his position, or
any appreciation of the gravity of the political situa-
tion, slept on a bed of roses. The question was not
now one of Whig or Democratic doctrine, but of the

144 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

autonomy of the State ; how its sacred rights, guar-
anteed by organic law, could be preserved ; whether
it were better to withdraw from a Union, the compact
under which it had been formed having been ignored
or broken by sundry States, or to remain and escape
the ills which would follow a severance of our Federal
relations. In other words, union or disunion, secession
or revolution, were the exciting topics discussed and
disturbing the public mind. There were three parties
— first, the Unionists, under any circumstances, ready
and willing to bear the evils of an unjust and sectional
government rather than to rush to other evils which
they knew not of; second, Unionists, provided equal
rights, equal protection, and State autonomy could be
secured by further guarantees of national compact;
and third, Secessionists, who, disgusted with the sec-
tional animosities displayed by the North, and the nul-
lification in some fourteen States of laws passed to pro-
tect the citizen and to secure his property, recognized
and proposed, as the only remedy, separation from the
Union, and the setting up of a new federation amongst
the Southern States. But soon party lines were drawn
more closely, and men were known either as Unionists
or Secessionists. This was most unfortunate. The
former were regarded as ready to accept the situation,
holding the Union as it was more sacred than the Con-
stitution, which was .set aside and trampled under foot
by the dominant party, and which guaranteed nothing
of safety or of rights to the South ; and three-fifths of
the people of Virginia were arrayed upon this side —
were Unionists. This was a fatal mistake, as was shown
when the day for decision came, when Virginia was
called on to say upon which side — North or South —
she would stand. With a unanimity of sentiment be-
yond any calculation or conception, she arrayed her-
self upon the side of the South, though she well knew

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 145

that her fair fields would be the fighting grounds of the
opposing forces, and that desolation awaited her homes
and destruction her every interest. But her halting, as
we shall see — the misconception of her position as a
Union State — gave encouragement to the North to be-
lieve that, if not an ally, she would at least prove to be a
breakwater to the possible Secession movement which
had swept the most of the Southern States.

And the Secessionist, or at least the Virginia Seces-
sionist, was equally misjudged. He was regarded at
home as a man ready for an idea — an abstract idea, if
you please — that his section was endangered and his
people defrauded of their constitutional rights, and de-
nied equal protection before the law of the country,
ready to plunge the State into revolution and throw a
fire-brand into smouldering elements of discontent and
destruction. Upon this side I was arrayed, and found
myself at variance with my constituency, and de-
nounced by some of my warmest friends and strongest
supporters. But the position which I took, and which
the Secessionists, one with me, assumed, seemed the
only safe exit out of the dif^culties which environed the
State. It was reasonable and consonant with all expe-
rience to say that the time to oppose any difficulty was
in its inception, and that a bold, determined front, and a
readiness for the fray, was the surest road to safety.
Had the people of Virginia shown this unity of pur-
pose, instead of division and instead of tampering with
compromise, occasion would never have arisen for the
exercise of armed resistance.

On the 1st of January, i860, John Letcher took his
seat as Governor of Virginia, a Union Democrat, a
strong Union man, and an exponent of the views of
probably three-fifths of the people of Virginia, as the
term Union man was then understood. How far these
views extended, and how suddenly and radically they

146 Scz'ciiiy-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

were revised will be seen in the sequel. But as the
Union Governor of Virginia, his election gave counte-
nance and encouragement to the people of the North,
who believed that Virginia, with her powerful re-
sources, her commanding position, and her prestige in
the past would prove an able ally in case of trouble
with the more southern States.

On taking his seat, Mr. Letcher sent in a message to
the General Assembly directing their attention to the
excited condition of the public mind, and suggest-
ing the calling of a Convention of the States for the
purpose of recommending the adoption of some meth-
od for the preservation of the Union, "consistent with
honor, patriotism, and duty"; but at the same time
urging a "re-organization of the militia of the State, an
enlargement of the Virginia IMilitary Institute, and pur-
chase of munitions of war." On this recommendation
a bill was introduced in the legislature appropriating
"$500,000 for the purpose of arming the State." The
State had already expended some $200,000 during the
autumn of 1859 in the John Brown War, as it was fa-
cetiously designated by many people in and out of the
State, who failed to recognize the gravity of that seem-
ingly insignificant affair ; and Governor Wise had been
severely criticized for what they assumed was an un-
necessary collection of troops at Charles Town, and
their retention, during the trial, and until the execution
of the condemned prisoners. To all such persons this
"bill for arming the State" seemed still more unneces-
sary and uncalled for, and it met with strong and de-
termined opposition. As 1 have stated, I was not now
in consonance with the majority of my constituents,
who doubtless would not endorse my course, but I was
thoroughly convinced both of the wisdom and the ur-
gency of the objects commended in that bill, and I felt
it my duty to press it, and to vote for it ; and that my

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period ici^y

views at that time may be certainly and accurately un-
derstood, I introduce here a part of a speech which I
delivered in the Senate on the 19th of January, i860,
the bill being before that body on its passage. The
reader can judge how nearly my words amounted to
prophecy subsequently, and soon, fulfilled :

Mr. Claiborne said :

Mr. President, I offer no apology, sir, for urging upon the Sen-
ate, at this late hour, the reasons which induce me to think that this
bill should receive its prompt attention and its cordial support.
I confess that I have been wearied with the delay which has at-
tended its progress. I am aware that, amongst so many men, all
cannot be expected to entertain the same opinion upon scarcely any
point of general legislation; but I had hoped that, upon a subject of
so urgent importance, little difference of sentiment would have ap-
peared, and that Senators would have been willing to have re-
signed, with readiness, any unessential matter of disagreement, and
to have adopted with alacrity any feasible plan of compassing the
ends proposed by the bill. Upon the main object of the bill, I am
unwilling to believe that there is any disagreement. Of the neces-
sity for the passage of the bill, so far as it contemplates the de-
fense of the State, there cannot be two opinions. It requires no
prophet to see and to predict the day of danger. It is not in the
future, it is in the present. It is not foreshadowed in portentous
but uncertain sign of trouble. It has been inaugurated in the
bloody raid made upon our soil, and the tocsin was sounded in the
summons of soldiery to assemble upon our borders. If Senators
were asleep when these things happened, if they are yet unaware of
what has occurred, I must remind them that some of their con-
stituents have been awake, and that they are apprised of their
danger. The people, sir, without respect of party, burying political
differences, have met in primary assemblies throughout this ex-
cited Commonwealth and protested against this insult to our sov-
ereignty, and demanded of their representatives that this indignity
should be resented, and that our defenses for the future should
be made secure and impregnable. One-half of the session has passed,
and as yet no practical step has been taken to accomplish this ob-
ject. * * *

The present bill has passed the House of Delegates, fresh from
the people, with only two dissenting votes ; it has been recom-
mitted, it has been reported after days of delay; and now, when on
its passage, we are asked to table it, to print it, and to postpone
further action on it for the present. And we are rebuked by mem-
bers of the Senate, who tell us that we are proceeding in hot haste —
''in indecent haste," says the Senator from Albemarle (Mr. Rives),
and cautioned not to crack the lash over Senators' heads, and

T48 S event y-fire Years in Old Virginia

force them to vote on so distasteful a measure. Sir, I would be
one of the last to forget the courtesies of debate which ever char-
acterize the proceedings of the Senate of Virginia, but I must tell
Senators that if they hear the cracking of a lash, they hear it out-
side of this chamber.

Sir, the people of this State have set aside party prejudices and
sectional disputes at home, and they will rebuke the kindling of old
fires of discord here. They desire to stand before the world with
united front, in unbroken lines ; and they will not be distracted by
the quarrels of jealous leaders. I protest, in their name, against
the compromising of the speedy passage of this bill with amend-
ments not germane to the object of its provisions. It is a bill ap-
propriating a certain amount of money for the purchase of arms for
the defense of the whole State, and for the establishment of an ar-
mory for their manufacture; and the Senator from Marion (Mr.
Neeson) wishes to tack on an amendment providing for the erec-
tion of a Military Academy in the northwest; and another Senator
proposes another amendment insuring a certain distribution of
arms on the border. Sir, we do not propose to divide the de-
fenses of this State; we will concentrate them where most effec-
tive. I am as jealous as any man on this floor of ever permitting
one section to defend itself when assailed. We have a common
inheritance in the material interests, as well as in the historical
glory of Virginia ; and we will share the proud office of protecting
the one and perpetuating the other. When our late chivalric Gov-
ernor Wise declined the offers of brave men from other States, who
stepped forward last October at the invasion of the State, and
begged to share our danger, and to shed their blood in defense of
our homes, his answer met with a thrilling echo from every true
heart in this Commonwealth, "that we could meet our own foes, and
guard our own fires !"

Mr. President, I would that the facts of the late unfortunate foray
into our territory justified any reasonable hope that no further de-
fenses were necessary. I would that they were less solemn, less
momentous than they are. I would that no blood had been shed,
that no widowed woman, no orphaned child could look back to the
17th of October, 1859, and chronicle a sorrow not nnich to us per-
haps, but very near to them; then I could palliate the indifference
with which some Senators seem to regard this whole aft"air, and
pardon the levity with which they refer to the "Harpers Ferry
War." I can applaud the man who, speaking on this subject, al-
lows his feelings to find utterance in impassioned declamation, but
I have no sympathy, no more than I have for John Brown, with
the man who can contemptuously point his finger at the graves of
the gallant men who fell in opposing the first abolition invasion of
Virginia.

But not to digress. These recent events have served to show us our
exposed and defenceless condition. * * * In a day, in an hour,
we were summoned, with limited resources, to repel an enemy on

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 149

our border, who, had his wisdom been commensurate with his dar-
ing, would have proved a terrible foe. With not two score men he
seized and held for twenty-four hours the very Gibraltar of the
State. And though he has paid the penalty of his crime with his
worthless life, yet many of his compeers in villainly adventure still
live, and his daring and sworn associates are scattered throughout
the northern portion of this land ; if haply some of them are not
nearer home, surviving to embalm his martyred memory in their
hearts, and to carry in their breasts fiendish purposes of revenge.

Sir, I am one of those who believe that John Brown is not yet
done with. We all remember a very ridiculous letter which was re-
ceived by Governor Wise, after the body of the old reprobate had
been sent to its own place amongst the howling dervishes of abo-
litiondom — a letter stating that he was not dead, but that by the
introduction of a silver tube into his larynx before hanging, and a
sort of artificial respiration, his life had been saved, and the gal-
lows been cheated of its dues. Sir, that letter was absurdly false,
but it was prophetically true. It was symbolical of the resurrection,
not of the carcass of the vile old murderer, who has nothing in re-
serve but a fearful looking for of the second death ; but of the rising
of men clothed in his bloody garments, who have caught his mantle,
and who wrap with it around them hatred to the South, and who
cover with it machinations of treason and revenge. But, sir, it is
useless to conceal the fact that we are threatened with an eruption,
and with danger m^ore serious than that which such marauding may
contemplate. In spite of Union and conservative meetings in the
cities of the North, it is impossible to conceal the significant grum-
blings of the rural population of that section.

The dogged stubbornness with which their immediate representa-
tives resist the organization of the Congress of the United States is
a better exponent of that abolition, agrarian, and socialistic faction
in reference to the South. [The House of Representatives spent
two months, from December ist, 1859, to February ist, i860, wrang-
ling over slavery, secession, etc., the Republicans refusing to permit
an organization, until one of their own number, Pennington, of New
Jersey, was elected Speaker.] The fiat of power, which is the fiat of
doom, has gone forth from that party; the irrepressible conflict has
begun, and we must submit gracefully or ungracefully. They are
toying with us as the cat toys with its helpless victim before licking
up the blood of its vitals. Let us show vacillation now, let us show
irresolution, let us show division in our counsels and our fate will
be sealed, and sure. Sir, I will not repress this plainness of speech,
nor be deterred from urging the arming of the State, lest I be ac-
cused of kindling fires of discord, and disunion thereby. I repudiate
the implication of being a disunionist, but I cannot shut my eyes
to the imminent danger of disunion; and I should be a false sen-
tinel upon the watch-tower if I failed to raise the voice of warning
in the ears of my people. Disunion is not coming through State
legislatures ; it is not coming through the Federal Congress ; it is

150 Scz'cnfy-iire Years in Old Virginia

not coming through conventions, State or National — it is coming
through the people, when it conies. It is coming as the taking of
the Bastile came upon the quiet and slumber of Louis XIV ; it is
coming as all revolutions come, in a moment, in the twinkling of
an eye. It is coming when some bold man for selfish purpose, or
smarting under sense of sectional wrong, shall throw a fire-brand
suddenly into elements always smouldering here in the South. It
is coming when another John Brown comes. It is coming when
any one State, having borne the last straw upon its breaking bacic,
shall throw off the load, and walk out of this confederation; and it
is coming, in all of its horrors, when the General Government shall
marshal its forces to coerce such a State into submission. It is
coming, I had like to have said, beyond all the powers upon earth
or in heaven to prevent, when it is announced that a Black Repub-
lican President is elected to the command of the Army and Navy
of these United States.

Whether Senators will hear or whether they will forbear, this
event will be precipitated upon them, and it becomes the wise to make
ready. Mr. President, I love this Union, I acknowledge fealty to it
second to none. I have a right to love it — it is a part of my herit-
age. It was bought by men whose blood runs in my own veins,
and preserved to me by the sacrifices and suffering of my own
fathers. I will never leave it until I am driven from it by the
might of the oppressor. I will go with any man as far as he dare
go to perpetuate to my children their inalienable and inestimable
rights in this great structure of Constitutional freedom. But, sir,
when it is to be prostituted into a Temple of Dagon, where, blinded,
I am to be brought forth as the sport of my enemies, I pray for
unshorn strength that I may put out my arms, and. grasping its
pillars, bury friend and foe in one wreck of crumbling ruins.

I reproduce this speech, or parts of it, not to parade
my offices, but to show how clearly some could foresee
impending trouble, and how blindly some others fol-
lowed the phantom of faith in a faithless and fanatical
people. Eliminating from the common stock of tht.
people of the Northern States some thousands of good,
true, and patriotic men, who loved their whole coun-
try, and who stood for years a bulwark and a break-
water to stem the tide of abolition folly, and abolition
fury, amongst the remaining we could constantly rec-
ognize the narrow-minded Puritan of Plymouth Rock,
who, fleeing from his old home, sought another and a
new one here, for the averred purpose of securing and

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 151

enjoying for himself freedom of opinion, civil and
and religious. For himself truly. But when any other
man claimed the same right, with a bigotry born of the
Evil One, he immediately denied him such right, and
visited upon him persecution and banishment. And
when the banished brother grew in favor amongst the
heretics to whom he had fled, he was followed with
malediction and excommunication. And when the said
Puritan had grown into bands, and spread over the
whole of his cold and inhospitable section, carrying with
him still the leaven of jealousy in despite of anything
that was better and happier than his narrow religion
allowed, he looked upon the South and hated her for
her genial, generous spirit, and the gladness with which
she enjoyed her prosperity. Surely one of his chron-
iclers has well said, "the Puritan hated and condemned
bear-baiting, not because it gave the bear pain, but be-
cause it gave the people pleasure."

But to follow events. The General Assembly of Vir-
ginia adjourned sine die at the expiration of ninety
days, having done but little so far as providing for the
coming storm was concerned, except to invite Col. R.
E. Lee, of the U. S. Army, who was on a furlough at
Arlington, to come to Richmond and give some advice
concerning the organization of the militia. When I
saw him for the first time, trim, erect, soldierly, with
clean-shaven cheeks and coal-black moustache, I
thought him the embodiment of grace and manly
beauty. After four years' campaign of hardship and
of battle, which he bore and shared with his iron vet-
erans, and which sprinkled his locks and beard with
gray, and framed that faultless form into sturdier
mould, I could not recognize one feature of Col. R. E.
Lee. But as General R. E. Lee, if anything in that
magnificent presence had ever been lacking, time had
filled in the last touches of the picture that proclaimed

152 Scvcnty-Hvc Years in Old Virginia

him easily the most perfect specimen of man and sol-
dier which the world has ever seen. The last time that
I ever saw him during the war was just after the un-
fortunate affair at Sailor's Creek, when he had just lost
some 5,000 of his best troops, captured or slain, and
when the dense blue columns of the enemy were press-
ing his thin gray hues back — back, ever back, until the
end was but too evidently near. Yet he sat upon
"Traveler," erect, firmly, the light of battle still in his
eye, and a face immobile, in which no soldier could
read one thought of the sure disaster which he knew so
well was impending. To me he seemed greater in de-
feat than I had ever seen him in his greatest victories.

The beginning of the year i860, the year for the elec-
tion of a President and a Vice-President to succeed
Buchanan and Breckinridge, found the National House
of Representatives engaged in contention over sec-
tional issues, the Republicans holding the balance of
power. The legislatures of the different States, which
assembled at the same time, did little else than discuss
slavery, secession, and disunion.

The Democratic Party of Virginia met in Richmond
on the 1 6th of February, and appointed delegates to a
National Convention. The Constitutional Union Party
of Virginia, embracing the most of the Whigs and all
of the Democrats who were opposed to disunion and
secession, met in Richmond on the 28th of February
and appointed delegates also to a National Conven-
tion. The Democratic Party met in National Conven-
tion in Charleston, South Carolina, and met their
doom, split on the same sectional issues that had divid-
ed and destroyed the Whig Party, and after forty years
of practical control of the Government from 1828 to
i860, went out of business. Instead of nominating
candidates, this convention divided into two sections,
one to meet in Baltimore on June 23rd, which met and

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 153

nominated Douglas, of Illinois, and Johnson of
Georgia, and declared in favor of leaving slavery in
the Territories to the voters of the Territories, or to
the Supreme Court. The other wing of the party, call-
ed the Southern wing, met in Baltimore on June 28th,
and nominated Breckinridge, of Kentucky, and Lane,
of Oregon, and declared that neither Congress nor a
Territorial legislature had a right to prohibit slavery
in a Territory, and that it was the duty of the Federal
Government to protect slavery in a Territory when nec-
essary.

The Constitutional Union Party met in Baltimore
on May 9th, and nominated John Bell, of Tennessee,
and Edward Everett, of Massachusetts, announcing for
its platform the "Constitution, the Union, and the en-
forcement of the laws."

The Republican Party met in Convention in Chicago
on May i8th, and nominated Abraham Lincoln, of
Illinois, and Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, and declared
in favor of the prohibition of slavery in the Territories.
Bitter political excitement raged during the canvass
throughout the country, only intensified after the an-
nouncement of the final vote on November 6th, when
it was known that Abraham Lincoln had been elected
President. He received 180 of the electoral votes from
eighteen States, "all north of Mason and Dixon's Hne."
Breckinridge received 72, all from the Southern States,
even Maryland and Delaware voting for him. Bell and
Everett received 39 votes from Virginia, Kentucky,
and Tennessee, the border States. Douglas received
12 votes from the single State of Missouri. Thus for
the first time a sectional President, from a sectional
party, was elevated to the Chief Magistracy of the Na-
tion, with a sectional Congress to back him, and the
Army and Navy at his command. This sounded the
knell of the Union. The Southern people felt that they

154 Seventy- five Years in Old Virginia

were in the hands of their enemies, as was so early
and so unhappily seen in the sequel. Some good men
argued that the election of a sectional President was no
reason why the Union should be dissolved, a fallacy
that was made apparent even to the best, and wisest,
and most patriotic before six months had elapsed. On
the assembly of Congress on the 3rd of December,
President Buchanan sent a message to Congress de-
nying the right of secession, but doubting the right of
Congress to coerce a State into obedience by military
force. His Cabinet soon began to desert him. Howell
Cobb, of Georgia, Secretary of the Treasury ; Lewis
Cass, of Michigan, Secretary of State ; John B. Floyd,
of Virginia, Secretary of War ; and Jacob Thompson,
of Mississippi, Secretary of the Interior, successively
resigned within a month. On the 20th of December
South Carolina passed an ordinance of secession ; and
on the 30th took possession of the United States arse-
nal at Charleston, Major Robert Anderson in the mean-
time having transferred the forces of the Federal Gov-
ernment from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. And
now the work of disintegration proceeded with an earn-
estness and rapidity which gave signal to the country
that the rupture between the States and the Federal
Government was complete.

From the 20th of December, i860, to the ist of Feb-
ruary following, the States of vSouth Carolina, Georgia,
Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas,
consecutively, had passed ordinances of secession, and
seized the forts and arsenals of the United States within
their borders.

But let us return to X'irginia. Governor Letcher, by
proclamation, called a convention of the General As-
sembly of Virginia in extra session on the 7th of Janu-
ary, 1861. The assembly ordered an election on the
4th of February proximo of delegates to a convention

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 155

of the people, that they might determine in their sov-
ereign capacity what relations they should sustain to
their Southern brethren who had left the Union, and
what relation to the Federal Government, of which
they were still a constituent part — in other words,
whether they should abide by the Union or adopt an
ordinance setting up their own sovereignty. This was
known as the Secession Convention. It met in Rich-
mond on the 13th of February. On the 19th of Feb-
ruary the General Assembly, anxious to avoid division,
and to avert the calamitous results which would inevit-
ably ensue, invited a Peace Conference of all the States
to assemble in Washington, and appointed six of the
ablest and most conservative citizens as delegates to
that conference, viz : ex-President John Tyler, Hons.
Wm. C. Rives, John W. Brockenbrough, George W.
Sommers, and Jas. A. Seddon. These met in Washing-
ton on February 4th, with representatives from seven
of the border slave States, and thirteen free States.
This body of illustrious, patriotic citizens submitted a
plan of reconciliation, which Congress rejected — and
adjourned.

On the 4th of March Lincoln was inaugurated Presi-
dent. On the 6th the commissioners of Virginia from
the Peace Conference of all the States reported to the
Virginia Convention the failure to accomplish any sat-
isfactory results. But the Virginia Convention, still
anxious to secure peace and to preserve the Union,
sent three of its most distinguished members, Messrs.
A. H. H. Stuart, William Ballard Preston, and George
W. Randolph, to visit Washington, and see President
Lincoln, and to ask what course he proposed to pursue
in reference to the seceding States. "He handed them
a paper setting forth in writing his intentions to coerce
the seceding States into obedience to the Federal au-
thority." On the 15th of April he issued a call for

ij6 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia

"75,000 troops apportioned amongst the States to sup-
press combinations against the laws of the United
States in the States of South Carohna, Florida,
Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas."
This call was communicated to Governor Letcher, on
the same day, by Simon Cameron, Secretary of War,
who also notified him that the quota of troops to be
furnished by Virginia was "three regiments, containing
2,340 men, to rendezvous at Staunton, Wheeling, and
Winchester." To this communication Governor Letcher
promptly replied : "I have only to say that the militia
of Virginia will not be furnished to the powers at
V/ashington for any such use or purpose as they have
in view. Your object is to subjugate the Southern
States, and a requisition made upon me for such an
object — an object in my judgment not within the pur-
view of the Constitution or the Act of 1795 — will not
be complied with. You have chosen to inaugurate
civil war ; and having done so, we will meet it in a spirit
as determined as the Administration has exhibited
toward the South."

This call for troops from Virginia to coerce the
Southern States fell as a bombshell upon the Union
men of the convention, as it doubtless did also upon her
Union Governor. The subject of coercion had evi-
dently not been considered as one of the sequences of
the election of a sectional President. They declared
that the election of Mr. Lincoln did not imply any
danger of interference with the rights and institutions
of the States — an opinion which was fortified by the
President's perfidious declaration in his inaugural ad-
dress on the 4th of March, that "he had neither the
right nor the intention of interfering with slavery in
the States."

Up to the time of this call the people of Virginia,
three-fifths of them at least, or those constituting the

Politics of the Ante-BcUum Period 157

Union Party, had expressed at the polls, in the elec-
tion of delegates to the convention, their willingness
and determination to abide the issue of a Republican
President. This was not the view of the Secessionists,
the remaining two-fifths. As the secession leader and
exponent of the views of that two-fifths, in the district
of the Senate which I represented, after a bitter po-
litical campaign, in which a man met upon the hustings
foes as implacable as if they had never held his hand
in friendship, and where the pistol and the rope were
the unconcealed pledges of what awaited the traitor to
his country, I felt it my duty to publish an address or
manifesto to my constituents, which I introduce here,
in my defense and in defense of the gallant minority
which stood by me in those perilous times ; and I ask
of the reader now to remember that the address was
published some six weeks before the inauguration of
Mr. Lincoln and his call for troops for coercion. If the
Secessionists were not patriots they were pretty good
prophets :

Address (in part) of Hon. John Herbert Claiborne, of
Petersburg and Prince George, to his Constituents
of the Sixth Senatorial District, January 20th, 1861 :

I desire, fellow citizens, to say a few plain words to you on the all-
engrossing subjects of public attention, and 1 know not how I can
more conveniently reach you than through the public press. I have
a sincere desire, as I believe it to be my solemn duty, to contribute
something toward healing the breach which unfortunately divides
many of our best citizens, and to pour mollifying oil, if possible,
upon the stormy waters of the present political strife. Divisions
amongst a people who are one in interest, one in honor, and who
must be one in destiny, are unfortunate, often disastrous, especially
at a time of public danger, when unity of thought and sympathy of
feeling and concord of action are vitally essential to the preserva-
tion of those tilings which men hold sacred and dear.

We are, fellow-citizens, in the very presence of an enemy — an ene-
my uncompromising and implacable, an enemy in the flush of the first
victory, an enemy united and resolved to push the results of their
triumph to the end of the contest. And instead of uniting our broken

158

Sc7riil\'-fiz'c Years in Old Virnnia

forces and making one last stand upon the common ground of our
hearths and homes, we are standing apart, distrusting one another, de-
bating abstractions, divided as to whether there be any virtue in this
mode of resistance, or necessity for that, whilst our watchful foe is
deriding our indecision and strengthening himself for the final onset.

Is it possible that this unfortunate condition of things can longer
exist? What are the sources of our differences? What are the
grounds of our disagreement? Can they not be adjusted? Come,
let us reason together. Let us banish all asperity of feeling, let us
examine our hearts and cast out from them all pride of opinion,
and all prejudice of party association, and bring ourselves, as men
of one blood and one brotherhood, to the noble task of preserving
this old Commonwealth in all the prestige of its past renown and in
all the glory of its past history.

Who is the enemy who has endangered our peace and who has
summoned us to be ready for war? A political part'y of the slow but
progressive growth of forty years has at last obtained possession of
the ballot box in this country of elective franchise, and is about to
be inaugurated into power. It is consistent with its character, as
with the character of all parties, to administer the Government in
accordance with the policy it has heretofore exhibited, and the prin-
ciples it has heretofore announced. This policy and these princi-
ples we consider as subversive of our interests and destructive of
our property; our property in that peculiar institution which is a
power in the State, and to which the State owes much of its pros-
perity and its wealth. But are these dangers which we contemplate
real or imaginary? And if real, is the institution worth preserv-
ing? Is it worth contending for? Would a quarrel in its behalf
be just and righteous?

"For thrice armed is he who hath his quarrel just.
And he but naked, though locked up in steel.
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted."

If we can agree upon these simple propositions, then we can con-
sult and co-operate, and thus keep our domestic institutions secure,
preserve our altars untouched, and, maybe, with heaven's help, per-
petuate in its purity a Federal Union which has come down to us
baptized in the blood of our fathers, and which has been our love
and our song at home, and our pride and our shield abroad. Or
if this boon be denied us, we can assert our own State sovereignty,
dictate the terms of separation from a people who have betrayed us,
and, throwing the sword in the balance with the right, proclaim our
independence of all earthly power or potentate. But is it the pur-
pose of the Black Republican Party to interfere with slavery in
the States, or to prevent its extension into the Territories of the
common country?

Let us examine its histor}' — let us consult its oracles. None will
dispute but that the negro lias been its one idea for good or for

Politics of the Antc-BcUiiin Period 159

evil. It was organized upon this idea, it has grown and matured
upon its elaboration and development, and now it has enlarged its
borders and spread its sable folds, until their sombre shadow is
falling upon the fairest heritage of earth, and a sense of impend-
ing darkness is making the land to mourn.

It showed embryonic life at the adoption of the Federal Con-
stitution, and manifested its falsehood and duplicity when its found-
ers persisted, in spite of the protest of Virginia, upon a continu-
ance of the African slave trade, and left it in pious injunction to
their sons to deny the right of property in negroes which their
fathers had sold to the South. It made its first unlawful seizure
upon territory in the days of the Louisiana purchase, when it robbed
us of more than half of that acquired from France. It followed up
its unhallowed appropriation of the public domain when it admitted
California into the Union by a coup d'etat, and forever debarred
from the fatness of that new Canaan the very men whose valor had
won it, and whose blood had sealed it as the heritage of their pos-
terity. And to-day, in the thousands of millions of acres of land
toward the setting sun, it has declared that the foot of the slave-
holder shall never enter ; and with the help of its emigrant aid so-
cieties has supplanted the son of the hardy pioneer, whose father's
prowess wrested the soil from the red man, and has given his in-
heritance to the scums and outpourings of its redundant prisons and
work-houses.

Nor has it been contented to invade and appropriate the com-
mon territory of this country. It has essayed to found a colony in
our own State. Not eighteen months ago it opened a depot for
arms and munitions of war in a frontier country, and sent an out-
lawed banditti to incite insurrection and to proclaim "alarm to the
sleep, fire to the dwelling, and poison to the food and water of the
slaveholder." And when, under the forms of law, and in the clem-
ency of justice, a jury of freemen had found these marauders worthy
of the gallows, a howl of indignation went up from the North, and
John Brown was voted a crown of martyrdom and the honor of an
apotheosis.

Such, fellow citizens, are some of the unlawful doings of this
party. Under pretense of law, a law higher than the Constitution
and holier in their eyes than the law of God, they have stolen from
us our property, have refused to restore it, have built jails and pen-
itentiaries for our incarceration if we pursue it, and have murdered
our citizens and their own for endeavoring to secure us. They have
shielded criminals and traitors when taking refuge in their midst,
and have refused to surrender them to the just requirements of our
authorities. Their leaders and founders have proclaimed an irre-
pressible conflict begun, and declared that it should not end until
the States were all free or all slave, until Charleston and New Or-
leans should become legitimate marts of trade or New York and
Boston markets for the souls and bodies of men. Their chief
mouthpiece and expounder has announced that "all nations have their

i6o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

superstitions, and that the superstition of the American people is
the Federal Constitution." In addition he has characterized this
instrument of organic law, which we have always considered the
palladium of our rights, as "a league with hell and a covenant with
the Devil."

They have not left untouched our social character, but have in-
vaded the sanctity of private life. Through the public press and
upon the floor of the Congress of the United States, they have held
us up to the scorn and contempt of the civilized world, have tra-
duced the honor of our men and defamed the virtue of our women,
and covered us with every epithet of spite and malignity.

Such in feeble portray is that party which, on the 4th of March
next, will possess itself of the Executive and Legislative, if not of
the Judiciary, Departments of the Federal Government. Will it
scruple to use its power to the prejudice and hurt of the institution
of slavery? What, but this, was the original object of its organiza-
tion? What are the results in those States where it has already ac-
quired control of the different departments of government? Let his-
tory answer. In eleven of them it has boldly nullified the fugitive-
slave law and ignored the Constitution. In four of them it has de-
nied the right of jails, court-houses, and all public buildings in aid
of the master. In seven of them it has provided means of defense
for the fugitive, and in three of them declared him absolutely free,
whilst the penalties which master and officer incur in endeavoring to
carry out the guarantees of the Constitution are onerous and oppres-
sive, including fines and imprisonments, in some cases for fifteen
years.

Is it reasonable to suppose that it will not inaugurate an analogous
policy when it shall become possessed of the Federal Government?
Can any man doubt it? Does the future ever so belie the past? Has
it ever given the poor guarantee of a pledge that it will not? Its
elected chief preserves a sullen silence, its premier promises no hope
of better counsels, whilst its insolent minions in the hall of the Na-
tional Congress defiantly reject all propositions of compromise.

Now, fellow citizens, shall we cravenly submit to the rule of this
party? Let a Northern statesman, a true-hearted and consecrated
patriot, speak. Said Mr. Fillmore, four years ago, "The South
would not and ought not to submit to the election of a sectional
candidate for the Presidency." The Republican President-elect, him-
self, has declared that this country must be all slave or all free. He
will take care that it is not all slave, let us take care that it is not
all free. Shall Virginia surrender three hundred millions of dol-
lars worth of slave property at his dictum? And our present help-
less and attached dependents, our family servants, the servants of
our fathers and of our mothers, what of them? Shall we visit upon
them the curse that freedom would entail, and cruelly cut them off
from our providence and care? In the light of truth and conscience
1 cannot surrender these helpless dependents upon my intelligence
and my protection to the tender mercies nf a Beecher, a Stowe, or a

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period i6i

Garrison. No. When the hypocritical abolition preachers of the
North shall have filled the mouths of the hungry paupers at their
own doors, and clothed their nakedness, we will hear with more
patience their sentimental sermons upon the sin of slavery. We
will not be put upon the defense of slavery by such subsidized
ranters. An institution sanctioned by all the ordinances of divine
law, and sustained by constitutions of human enactment, I will do
all in my power to perpetuate in my State, and to preserve to my
posterity this institution so humanizing to an unfortunate race. As
to myself, I can only part with it in the demolition of my house-
hold altar and the destruction of my household gods. But, fellow
citizens, if our property in slaves cannot be protected, and equal
rights be guaranteed to us under Republican rule, what course shall
we adopt? Here I think that I hear throughout the length and
breadth of this Commonwealth but one reply — the day of settlement
has come, and we must have new quarters, and a confirmation of
our rights, or a dissolution of partnership. But some may say, let
us make resistance to this encroachment upon our rights m the
Union. What Union? The Union that was? That has gone. Five
States have already severed their connection with the Federal pow-
ers and resumed their sovereignty. Five stars have been blotted out
from the firmament of the flag, and the marred escutcheon proclaims
the glory of the Republic departed. As the pious ^neas, recount-
ing the mournful story of Troy, so we record in sadness. Ilium fuit
que ingens gloria Dardanidum.

Virginia, it is true, still keeps her representatives on the floor of
Congress, but the withdrawal of their colleagues from the seceding
States is daily leaving them in a greater minority, and very soon
they, and the few patriotic Northern men who act with them, will
be powerless for good in any of the ordinary or extraordinary de-
vices of parliamentary strife. Through them you can demand noth-
ing of your rights which will be accorded. With a Republican Ex-
ecutive and a Republican Congress, they will be little more than au-
tomatons for the amusement of the dominant party. Let there be
no resistance by arms in the Union. Nothing but immediate miracle
could save you from utter overthrow, and only the plea of insanity
protect you from the doom of treason. Let me pray you, before
you resort to the ultima ratio regnuni, to withdraw your represen-
tatives from Washington, fly your own flag over you, and proclaim
to the world your independence of all other government, and your
equality with the nations of the earth. This can only be done by
ordinance of secession, adopted in sovereign convention of the peo-
ple, the holders and arbiters of all power in a democratic govern-
ment. The General Assembly of Virginia, in extra session, in ful-
fillment of your wishes, and in obedience to your instructions, has
summoned such convention at your Capitol in Richmond on the 13th
of February next. With that convention, subject in its action to
the final arbitrament of your ratification or rejection, will rest the
inherent power to do or to withhold all that a people may do or
11

i62 Sci'CHty-fii'c }'cars in Old Virginia

withhold in the exercise of the sovereign right of self government.
Whether the right of secession from the Federal Government ac-
crues to any State or everj' State, composing the present Union,
under the inherent rights of the self-governed, supported by the letter
and the spirit of the Constitution, I leave you to determine each for
himself. I trust, however, you will pardon me for saying that of
which none of you are ignorant, that I believe and uphold the doc-
trine of States Rights with all my soul and body and strength. In
my study of the Constitution and in reading the debates of the con-
vention of 1/88, which adopted it. I can make out no other mean-
ing. And in the present dangers and developments of consolidation,
I see nothing which would lead me to distrust my own judgment or
to impeach the wisdom of the fathers. Some of them seemed to
have cast a prophetic eye along the vista of years and to have recog-
nized in the hazy distance the very troubles which now becloud our
political sky.

But, fellow citizens. I will quarrel with no one on the abstract
right of secession. I am willing to leave every man to his own honest
convictions, conscious that the true patriot will find a salve for his
conscience in the indisputable rights of revolution when necessity
bids him draw the sword of a freeman.

The General Assembly of Virginia has taken other steps, in addi-
tion to calling a convention, to bring this matter to your final and
sovereign decision. It has appointed a comission of five gentlemen,
your fellow citizens, distinguished for their wisdom, their integrity,
and their eminent service to the State, to repair to Washington City,
holding in their hands a proposition assumed to be the ultimatum of
Virginia, which, while it claims nothing that is not justly due, as-
serts all that we can hopefully demand.

An invitation has been extended to all other States to appoint
similar commissions to assemble in Washington on the fourth of
February next, and to confer with our own, to hear mutual com-
plaints, and adjust mutual grievances, and, if possible, to devise
some plan of restoring peace and union to this distracted country.
If they fail in recommending any plan of adjustment of sectional
differences and report all prospect of an honorable compromise at
an end, with you will rest the responsibility of saying whether fur-
ther effort shall be expended in attempt of solution of the ques-
tion in the Union; or whether, out of the Union, you will open
other systems of negotiation, and assert before the world that which
is your right. The hope and the prayer of the patriot is that the
finger of God may point in the darkness, sealed to human vision,
some way of escape from the impending evil, some path of peace
and safety and honor, that this land of freedom may remain for-
ever, in the fullness of its promise, the home of religion and the
asylum for the oppressed of all nations.

But, fellow citizens, as ])ainful as it may be for me to do so, I
must warn you, as a sentinel whom you yourself have placed upon
the outpost, and who has used all of his watchfulness and all of his

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 163

sagacity in view of the tremendous interests at stake, that I see
full reason to fear for the worst. It is my solemn conviction that
the party in power will yield no principle, and relinquish no claim ;
that without the promise of indemnity for the past or security for the
future, you will be called on to vote whether Virginia shall abide by
the North or the South, whether she shall establish her own gov-
ernment and trust to new alliances, or whether she shall submit
to Black Republican rule. In this unhappy event my ballot is al-
ready prepared. I trust we shall all cast our lots together. Let
Virginia be our first care. Her interests, her honor, her safety our
chief concern. For myself. I pledge my love, my life, my all. She
is the land of my birth, the home of my fathers. The bones of
my dead sleep in her bosom, and I would mingle my own dust with
her hallowed soil. It was her sons who constructed this magnificent
temple of human liberty, their wisdom strengthened it, their genius
adorned it, their valor defended it — and now treachery and fanati-
cism would pull it tumbling about our ears. In a Southern Confed-
eracy Virginia will find a sisterhood of States whose interests are
her interests, whose people are her sons, and whose destiny must be
her destiny. To this she will naturally look for sympathy and as-
sociation and help; and from this I would be the last to turn her
away. But broken covenants, misplaced confidence, and present rev-
olution should teach lessons of prudence, and inculcate jealous care
of all future union with other governments at home or abroad. For-
get not that before this time Virginia surrendered voluntarily, and
generously, an empire in the Northwest to a nation that peopled it
with her enemies, and erected no barriers to prevent them from her
coasts.

You hold in your hand to-day the return for this magnificent be-
quest, a dishonored flag, and a menace of subjugation. Weigh well
the price before you make out the title deed to another purchaser,
and heaven help you to a better bargain in the future. But dividing
the loss and sharing your lot for better or for worse, I am
Respectfully and truly.

Your friend and servant,

John Herbert Claiborne.

In reproducing this address I again call the reader's
attention to the fact that it was made some three
months before the actual dissolution of the Union and
the inauguration of war by the President of the United
States. It was made in hope of opening the eyes of
my constituents to the dangers consequent upon the
election of a sectional President, dangers to be averted
only by a wise and prompt preparation for resistance

164 Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia

to the encroachment of the Republican Party, upon
rights guaranteed by the Constitution ; but an instru-
ment which they had denounced as the "superstition of
the American people," and as a "league with hell and
a covenant with the Devil." I could not see what else
we had to expect from such a party in power than the
denouement which so soon and so inevitably followed
— war, subjugation, and destruction. But I failed to
make my people see with my eyes. "No danger, no
danger," it was said, that any men elected as President
of this country by the free suffrage of the great Amer-
ican people would inaugurate a war between the States,
would lay waste the heritage left us by our fathers, and
which had been so dearly bought with their blood and
treasure. They failed to see that Mr. Lincoln was not
elected President by the great American people, but by
a plurality of votes between three candidates, and votes
from one section exclusively ; a section which had re-
pudiated the organic law of the land, and denied to the
other section any right which faction, fanaticism, or
hypocrisy could assail. They failed, also, to take cog-
nizance of a most significant fact, viz : that the man
elected President by the great American people could
not reach the Capital of the country to take upon him-
self the oath of office except stealthily and under dis-
guise, so great was the indignation of the public at the
perpetration of so foul a wrong. The Union men, even
then, failed to see anything more in this remarkable
episode than the ebullition of a partisan, and perhaps a
lawless element of an excited population. The last ex-
piring, mistaken, but honorable effort of the Union
men in Virginia was to call a Peace Convention of the
border and Northern States, to assemble at Washing-
ton, in order to devise if possible some plan of perpet-
uating in its purity a government which had served for
three-quarters of a century to secure to the citizen

Politics of the Ante-Belluni Period 165

safety at home and protection abroad; a government
which had been Hterally a palladium of rights of all the
people. Every border State and nearly every North-
ern State sent commissioners to the convention, men
mostly of mark and patriotic service to their States
and to the country. The Convention did itself and Vir-
ginia the honor of electing John Tyler President of the
Convention. Some of the Northern and Northwestern
States declined to send delegates. The vicious and
venomous old fanatic who filled the chair of Governor
of Michigan recommended that commissioners be sent
from all the States, out of courtesy, but that "only men
of backbone" be sent ; saying at the same time that the
"Union would not be worth much without a little spill-
ing of blood."

Mr. Tyler had served the people of Virginia in va-
rious offices of distinction and trust for nearly half a
century. He had been a member of the General As-
sembly, of the Executive Council, had been Governor
of the State, member of the House of Representatives
of the Congress of the United States from Virginia.
Senator in Congress from Virginia, Vice-President and
President of the United States, President of the Peace
Conference, member of the State Convention of 1828-
'30, member of the Convention of 1861, member of the
Provisional Congress of the Confederate States, and a
member-elect of the permanent Congress of the Con-
federate States. At the Convention of the Peace Com-
missioners in Washington he was literally "an old man
full of honor." But he as literally laid aside his years,
and with all the vigor of manhood, and the thrilling
eloquence which had so often electrified senates and
swayed assemblies, he called the attention of the mem-
bers of the convention to the monuments which their
God-like fathers, through their wisdom and patriotism,
had built up, and to the task of preserving them spot-

1 66 Sezruty-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia

less — "a task equally grand, equally sublime and quite
as full of glory and immortality." Mr. Tyler was a
Union man and represented the Union men of Virginia
as no other man could have done. In another address
in Baltimore, speaking of the Union, he said: "I will
not believe that a people so favored by Heaven will
most wickedly and foolishly throw away a pearl richer
than all their tribe. No, when I open the Book of
Sybils there is unfolded to my sight, in characters
bright and resplendent, glorious and revivifying, the
American Confederacy in the distant future, shining
with increased splendor, the paragon of governments,
the example of the world. If I misinterpret these
prophecies, let me live and die in my error. Let it
rather be thus than to awaken me to the opposite real-
ity, full of the horrid spectre of a strong government
sustained by bristling fortifications, large standing
armies, heavy burdens on the shoulders of industry, the
sword never at rest in its scabbard, and the ear ever
deafened by the roar of cannon. No ! Leave me for the
remnant of my days the belief that the government and
institutions, handed down to us by our fathers, are to
be the rich legacy of our children and our children's
children to the latest generation. If this be a delusion,
let me embrace it as a reality, keep at a distance from
me that gaunt and horrible form which is engendered
in folly and nurtured in faction, and which slakes its
thirst in the tears of broken hearts and appeases its
appetite on the blasted hopes of mankind."

Governor Wise, of Virginia, the lifelong friend of
Mr. Tyler, quotes in his "Seven Decades of the Union"
a great part of this eloquent address, and adds in his
own fervid and loving words: "He did misinterpret the
prophecies ; the gods loved him too well to grant his
prayer. He was taken away from the touch of subju-
gation. He never tasted the bitterness of its ashes.

Politics of the Autc-BcUum Period 167

His heart was not broken, he died in hope, and was
never forced to see the 'gaunt and horrible form' of
that despotism of Congress which destroyed the Con-
stitution, States, laws and liberties of the people of the
United States." The calling of the "Peace Conference
of all the States" was the last effort of the Union men
of Virginia to preserve the Union, and John Tyler
was an ambassador worthy of them and worthy of the
cause ; like them, he was "too much for forbearance,
peace and compromise."

Three-fifths of the leading men of Virginia were for
the Union as the Union was construed and handed
down to them from their fathers. That they had the
right peaceably to secede from this Union ; that this
compact, which they had entered into with States, could
be broken when the terms of the compact had been
violated, they had never entertained a doubt. War
waged upon them for the perpetuation of the Union
was regarded as a delusion. Again quoting Mr. Wise :
"Had they foreseen that war was inevitable upon their
withdrawal from the Union, they would have prepared
for it, and if at the very beginning they had prepared
for it, and at first 'had drawn the sword instead of blow-
ing the horn,' there would have been no war. The
prompt, prepared attitude of war would have brought
a peaceful adjustment which would have sheathed the
drawn sword without a drop of blood. But the Union
men could not see it in that light. Earnest, honest,
patriotic, the best representatives of the best ideas of a
conservative government, united for the best interests
of all the people, their last struggle for the preserva-
tion of the Union was as noble as it was unfortunate.
Until the assembly of the Convention of Virginia for
the purpose of determining the relation of the State to
the States which had already severed their connection
with the Union, the Northern people never doubted but

1 68 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

that the border States, and especially Virginia, would
side with the South. They had regarded the Secession-
ists, the "fire-eaters," as called by some, the true ex-
ponents of the policy which would be pursued by Vir-
ginia in case of dissolution of the Union, and they had
made up their minds to a peaceable separation.

Horace Greeley, the mouthpiece and Magnus Apollo
of the Republican Party, said in his paper, in contem-
plation of disunion, which was then already fait accompli,
as far as some half dozen States were concerned, that
"If the Declaration of Independence justified the with-
drawal or secession of three milhon of colonists from
the British Empire, in 1776, he could not see why five
million Southern men could not withdraw from the
Federal Union in 1861. The Neiv York Herald, an
equally blatant and proscriptive Northern paper, said
on the 23d of November, i860, "that coercion in any
event was out of the question, and that a Union held
together by bayonets would be nothing better than a
military despotism."

I have personal knowledge of the views and inten-
tions of some of the leading men of the dominant party
in Congress after the election of Mr. Lincoln, and I
am sure that they decided on permitting a peaceful se-
cession of the Southern States, and that the idea of
coercion was not at all entertained.

After the adjournment of the Senate, and on the as-
sembly of the Convention on the 13th of February,
two members of the Virginia Senate besides myself,
Honorable Benjamin Nash, of Chesterfield, the young-
est Senator in the body except myself, and the Hon.
Mr. Lynch, of Campbell, one of the oldest members of
the body, but a genial, hearty, young old gentleman,
visited Washington together, remaining a week for the
purpose of studying the situation and watching the
trend of matters. As members of the Virginia Senate

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 169

we had access by courtesy to the floor of the House of
Representatives, and by the poHteness of some of our
Virginia Congressmen made some pleasant acquaint-
ances amongst the Repubhcan members. We heard
also two capital speeches, one by Mr. Sigourney, of
New York, and one by Mr. Kellogg, of Illinois, both
leaders and able parliamentarians, both of whom were
for peace. We did not hear a speech advocating co-
ercion in the lower house, and only one in the Senate,
which was by Andy Johnson, as he was then called, the
Senator from Tennessee, and subsequently Vice-Presi-
dent, and after the death of Lincoln, President of the
United States. To this we will refer again.

Dissolution of the Union was undoubtedly contem-
plated, but a dissolution peaceably and without contest.
The idea of dissolution of the Union was not of South-
ern birth or origin. The people of the South loved the
Union, as was shown by the action of Virginia and of
the border States, even to the last days of the Union.
Not only the right of any State or States to secede
from the Union, but the propriety of such action under
certain circumstances, had been announced and had
been endorsed as far back as 18 14, when the States of
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and others,
which were opposed to the war of 1812, called a conven-
tion at Hartford and published a manifesto, in which it
was declared that "if the Union be destined to dissolu-
tion, wherever it shall appear that the causes are radical
and permanent, a separation by equitable arrangement
will be preferable to an alliance by constraint among
nominal friends, but real enemies." In 1839 ex-Presi-
dent John Quincy Adams said in an address in New
York that "it would be far better for the people of the
disunited States to part in friendship with each other
than to be held together by constraint."

I/O Scrcnty-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia

Mr. William Rawles, a distinguished jurist of Penn-
sylvania, in his work on the Constitution, said ''it de-
pended on a State itself whether it would continue a
member of the Union or not." Mr. Webster, "the
great expounder of the Constitution," said ten years
before this date of 1861 in a speech at Capon Springs,
Virginia, and afterwards in Buffalo, New York, "that if
the South were to violate any part of the Constitution
intentionally and systematically, and persist in doing
so year after year, would the North any longer be
bound by it ; and if the North, deliberately, habitually,
and of fixed purpose were to disregard one part of it,
would the South any longer be bound to observe its
other obligations?'' How absurd it is to suppose that
when different parties enter into a compact for certain
purposes, either can disregard any one provision, and
expect, nevertheless, the other to observe the rest. A
bargain cannot be broken on one side and still bind
on the other.

And Senator Benjamin F. Wade, of Ohio, a bitter
South-hater, said, from his seat in the United States
Senate: "Who is the final arbiter (of this question of
secession), the General Government or the States in
their sovereignty? Why, sir, to yield that point is to
yield up all the rights of the States to protect their
own citizens, and to consolidate this Government into
a military despotism." And later, on the i8th of De-
cember, 1864: "I do not blame the South so much,
because they have been led to believe that we, to-day
the dominant party, who are about to take the reins of
government, are their mortal foes and stand ready to
trample their institutions under foot" (which they im-
mediately did). And so might we quote from other
distinguished Northern men, Republicans — Williams,
of Massachusetts. Cabot Lodge, of Massachusetts, Gen.
John A. Logan, of the United States Senate, and after-

Politics of the Ante-Belhim Period 171

wards major-general in the United States Army, who
said, as late as the fifth of February, 1861, "that the
abolitionists of the North have constantly warred upon
Southern institutions by incessant abuse from the pul-
pit, from the press, on the stump, and in the Halls of
Congress. By these denunciations and lawless acts
on the part of abolition fanatics, such results have been
produced as to drive the people of the Southern States
to a sleepless vigilance for the protection of their prop-
erty and the preservation of their rights." Even the
subsequently notorious Edwin M. Stanton said "there
was no power under the Constitution to coerce a se-
ceding State." These authorities are not collected and
quoted in defense of the right of secession. Were such
defense necessary, arguments indisputable and irre-
fragable, and from higher authorities, could be pro-
duced and piled one upon another, until a structure
would stand, as such a structure ever stands, impreg-
nable and unassailable by sophism or logic.

What I wish to show is that representative men, men
wdio voiced the opinions of the people of the North,
not only yielded the question of the right, but sus-
tained the right of a State to retire from the Union in
virtue of its own sovereign power as expressed by the
votes of its citizens. More than that. The trend of
opinion of the party which had come into power with
the election and inauguration of Mr. Lincoln, as shown
by their speeches and their papers, was that a peaceable
dissolution of the Union was not only possible, but de-
sirable. The Union-loving people were of the South,
and of that conservative, patriotic, and law-abiding
party of the North which had no representative in the
factious, fanatical, and revolutionary class that damned
the Constitution and the laws, and elevated, by a plu-
rality of votes, one of their own ilk to the Presidential
chair.

1/2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

What cared those people for a Union that stood
as a menace to their machinations and as a bulwark
against their mad assaults upon their neighbor's prop-
erty and possessions? What had they or their fathers
done to build up this Union, to adorn it, to en-
large its borders, and make it great at home and glo-
rious abroad? They had gotten their hands upon the
strong box of the Government, and were awaiting
the division of the pelf. But they never meant to fight
for it. That was not in their line, and but few of their
company fell into line when the roll beat, and they
found out that they had awakened the demon of war.
Le^ their own chief answer. Ida M. Tarbell, in her
"Life of Lincoln," says that she was told by the late
Joseph Medill, editor of the Chicago Tribune, that he
went on an occasion and as one of a committee, from
Chicago to Washington, to intercede with the authori-
ties to be relieved from sending more troops to the war,
in accordance with a new draft just ordered, and which
was giving trouble. The committee went to Mr. Stan-
ton, and failing to get relief from him, went to Mr.
Lincoln. ]\Ir. Medill says: ''T shall never forget how
he (Mr. Lincoln) suddenly lifted his head and turned
on us a black and frowning face. 'Gentlemen,' he said,
'after Boston. Chicago has been the chief instrument of
bringing this war on the country. It is you who are
largely responsible for making blood to flow as it has.
You called for war and we had it, you called for eman-
cipation and we have given it to you. Whatever you
have asked for you have had. Now you came here beg-
ing to be let off. You ought to be ashamed of your-
selves. I had a right to expect better things of you.
Go home and raise your extra six thousand men.' "
That is documentary proof of what I have said, taken
from their own authorities.

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 173

Mr. Lincoln did not anticipate war in earnest. Had
he done so his hard common sense would never have
permitted him to perpetrate the absurd blunder of call-
ing for 75,000 men to subjugate the four million of
people South of Mason and Dixon's line. The per-
sistent, patient dogging of the Union men of the bor-
der States, sending commission after commission to
Washington to treat for, and to implore, a recognition
of their rights, finally convinced the party in power
that if the Union were dissolved they would find pow-
erful alHes, if not most influential friends, in the State
governments of the border States.

After the assembly of the convention of Virginia in
Richmond, the Hon. M. Carr, of North Carolina, came
to my seat in the Senate with a letter from a mutual
friend, and asked me if I would go with him to the
Executive Office and introduce him to Governor
Letcher, saying that his mission to Richmond was to
see what Virginia intended to do ; what her course was
to be in reference to the seceding States ; saying at the
same time that his people were, the great majority of
them, for the Union, but he felt that the interests
and destinies of all the Southern States were one;
and that his State was waiting anxiously to see
what we would do. I took him to the Governor's
office, where I found, not only the Governor, but sev-
eral of the most prominent Union men of the Conven-
tion, and introduced him, intimating to the gentlemen
present the object of Mr. Carr's visit. And as I was
not one of the Governor's way of thinking, I was not
sure that in the presence of the Httle group assembled
there I was persona gratis. After a few minutes,
therefore, I bowed myself out, not too late, however,
to hear the Governor say: "Mr. Carr, whatever Vir-
ginia does she is not going to be dragged out of the
Union at the tail of a Southern Confederacy." Mr.

174 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Letcher undoubtedly voiced the sentiment of three-
fifths of the Union men of Virginia at that day and
hour. How different that ringing reply of the Gover-
nor a few days later to the call for Virginia's quota
of troops to subjugate the Southern States ; and how
like a bomb it must have fallen into the Lincoln camp !
Had a letter embodying these views been sent to Mr.
Lincoln by the hands of the Hon. A. H. H. Stuart,
William Ballard Preston, and George W. Randolph, on
the final mission of the Virginia Convention to Wash-
ington to secure information, and to ask what course
the President intended to pursue toward the seceding
States, they would never have returned to Richmond
with a message of war on the 12th of April, nor would
Mr. Lincoln have issued his call for troops from Vir-
ginia on the 15th, nor would the Ordinance of Seces-
sion have been passed on the 17th. When the commis-
sion returned to the convention and reported the re-
sults of the final interview with the Washington au-
thorities, it was asked what the Union men proposed to
do. Hon. John Baldwin, of Staunton, one of the
staunchest supporters of the Union cause, and one of
its ablest advocates, arose from his seat and replied,
"There are no Union men now." Thus, in one short
week, event upon event of the most momentous im-
port and issue crowded upon each other's trail, and his-
tory was made with almost indecent haste.

I was in Washington with several of my comrades
of the Virginia Senate, as I have before said, and after
the announcement of the first vote in the Virginia Con-
vention, which determined seemingly its political char-
acter, and which made apparent that a large majority of
that body was opposed to secession, I witnessed the
most complete tergiversation of men and measures that
I had conceived possible. The representatives of Vir-
ginia, and of the border States generally, were men who

Politics of the Antc-Belhtm Period 175

believed that their respective States would follow the
fortunes of the cotton States, and had imbued the
minds of the dominant party with that idea. Hence, as
we said, a peaceable separation of North and South was
not only contemplated, but mutually agreed upon. The
constant and repeated efforts of the Union men of the
South, by commissions and re-commissions, of men
of the greatest prominence, and whose pure and pa-
triotic motives none could question, havl undoubtedly
begun to weaken the minds of the Washington authori-
ties in reference to the true position of the border
States ; but I could never have believed, had I not wit-
nessed it, that so complete and so sudden a revulsion of
feeling, that so complete and so sudden an announce-
ment of a change of policy, could have pervaded
any party or any people. It was no longer, as
Greeley said, "let the erring sisters go in peace."
Our Republican friends still received us socially,
and with warmth, but guyed us, some of them un-
mercifully. "Why," said they, "you gentlemen could
not have been well acquainted at home, or at least with
public sentiment at home. You told us that your State
would secede from the Union. Look at the announce-
ment in the Richmond papers. Not one-fourth of your
Convention are secessionists ; your people are for the
Union, and we will kick the cotton States back, and
you will help us."

A representative from Massachusetts, the Hon. Wil-
liam Burlingame, who rose to a good deal of distinc-
tion afterwards as Minister to China, and who had been
particularly genial and generous with us, sought us out
at once and said, "I told you that Virginia could never
leave the Union : that we would not let you have any
more ice for your juleps, and you could not do without
that." I confess that my own faith weakened in the
stand which I thought Virginia would and ought to

176 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

take, and we paid fewer visits to the Capital there-
after, and held fewer interviews with our radical friends.
Walking the streets of Washington one morning a
few days after these incidents, we noticed armed and
uniformed sentries in sections of the city where we had
never noticed their presence before, and on asking what
it meant were referred to a morning paper. On doing
so we saw that General Winfield Scott, whose head-
quarters were in Washington, had assumed virtual con-
trol of the police department. This, in time of peace,
seemed rather a departure from civic precedent, and to
us prognosticated danger. We did not foresee the im-
minence of that danger, nor dream of a Bastile at the
old Capitol, in whose black shadow so many citizens
were soon to be shut out from light and liberty. Had
we done so, we probably would not have lingered so
long about the Holy City, but left more promptly,
leaving our cards and excuses. As it was, moved per-
haps more by a spirit of what the world's people style
deviltry, than by any decent desire to pay our compli-
ments to the President, and the Commander-in-Chief
of the Army and Navy of the United States, we called
on Mr. Buchanan, and sending in our cards as Senators
from Virginia, they secured us I suppose an immediate
hearing, and we were ushered into the private ofifice of
the Executive. Acting as master of ceremonies, I in-
troduced, first myself, and then my confreres. One of
the young gentlemen with us inaugurated proceedings
by asking after the health of Miss Harriet Lane — the
President's niece, and whilom mistress of the White
House. I suppressed his politness by a wholesome
pressure of the boot heel upon his toe, and improved
the solemn occasion by saying with all the dignity that
I could crowd into my manner, ''Mr. President, as citi-
zens of Virginia, a State without one stain upon her
escutcheon, and as accredited representatives In the

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period lyy

Honorable Senate of the General Assembly of Virginia,
we have been estopped this morning upon the streets
of the city of Washington, the Capital of our common
country — estopped by armed sentry, and informed that
we cannot extend our walks in this direction or that
direction ; and had the reason assigned us, that General
Winfield Scott has virtually assumed command of the
civil police. In this time of peace, would it be asking
too much, Mr. President, if we ventured to inquire, be-
fore leaving for our homes, what grave reasons of state
have rendered these extraordinary measures neces-
sary?" Mr. Buchanan disputed the statement, politely,
but with som.e feeling, and I handed him the morning
paper, and called his attention to the paragraph upon
which my inquiry was founded. I do not think that he
was really aware of the facts before. He did not say so,
but retaining his seat, which he had not left to greet
us, he commenced to speak with a tearful voice of the
delicate and responsible position of his office; of the
strict account to which he would be held as guardian
of the muniments of state, of how he loved Virginia
and Maryland, and of the disturbed and distressing
condition of public affairs, etc., etc. As soon as we
could politely adjourn .the meeting we retired, con-
vinced that we had not seen the President. Mr. Lin-
coln had not taken his seat, of course, in the latter part
of February, 1861, but Mr. Buchanan was not Presi-
dent. Some of the party suggested that Jeremiah
Black, and others that General Scott, was President,
but we made no further presidential calls.

Strolling into the gallery of the Senate, we heard the
final debate betw^een Andy Johnson, the Senator from
Tennessee, and Wigfall, Senator from Texas. His State
had seceded, but Wigfall persisted in retaining his seat
at his pleasure, and for the purpose, it is said, of scoring
the Republican Senators as often as he could get oppor-

i/S Sci'cnty-fii'e Years in Old Virginia

tunity. Senator Johnson was speaking upon the all-
engrossing subject when we entered the Senate, and
from his standpoint made an able effort. As soon as he
took his seat, Wigfall obtained recognition from the
Chair, and commenced a speech which for rugged elo-
quence, pathos, humor, satire, and crushing assault ex-
ceeded anything I have ever heard. He commenced
by saying, as well as I can recall his words after forty
3'ears, that he proposed to direct his remarks to the
Senator from Tennessee, and that, but for his respect
for the decencies of debate and his regard for Senatorial
courtesy, he would apply to him the well known re-
mark of another gentleman on another occasion, ''Lord
Angus, thou hast lied." And then for fifteen minutes
there followed such a hot strain of charges, and merci-
less assault, that vS. A. Douglas took pity on Johnson,
evidently, and putting his arm over his shoulder, led
him into the cloak-room. In the meantime the gallery
had caught up the furor, and with storms of applause
made a temporary bedlam. The President of the Sen-
ate used his gavel vigorously, but without silencing
the commotion, and he ordered the galleries to be
cleared. I was sitting by the Hon. Alexander Rives,
of Albemarle, one of my confreres in the Senate of Vir-
ginia, a grave and dignified gentleman, and when the
Sergeant-at-Arms approached us, and commenced to
hustle us out, as he did every one else, Mr. Rives pro-
tested strongly, saying with an expression that he
often used when he wished to be emphatic, "God bless
my soul, sir, I have not made any noise, nor have I sym-
pathized in this disturbance." But the officer was in-
exorable, and turned us out with the others. We
wended our way to our hotel. Mr. Rives, no little crest-
fallen at his treatment, said to me as we went to dinner,
"My friend, if you have any Virginia bonds, sell them;
great trouble is pending." I left Washington the next

Politics of the Ante-Belhim Period 179

day, confident that disunion was at hand, but I really
feared from the action of the Virginia Convention that
the old State would either stand alone, or with the
border States, fix up, or attempt to fix up, some de-
fensive alliance with the Federal Government. The
words of Mr. Burlingame in Congress to myself and my
confreres, "We are going to kick the cotton States
back into the Union and you are going to help us,"
rang in my ears, and knowing how far my own personal
help would go in that direction, on reaching home com-
menced making my arrangements to remove my fam-
ily to Mississippi. But events moved too rapidly to per-
mit me to complete them, and in a day the revolution
came, as I had predicted in the Senate of Virginia on
the 19th of January, i860, it would come — when some
State, staggering under the burden of oppression,
should walk out of the Union ; and that it would come,
in all of its horrors, and with no power upon earth or
in Heaven to prevent, when a sectional President
should be summoned to the command of the Army and
Navy of the United States, and should marshal the
Federal forces to coerce such a State into submission.
This prophecy did not amount to much with three-
fifths of my own constituency — much less was such a
sequence of events contemplated by any great number
of the people of the border States, and by fewer of the
people of the Northern States ; that is, amongst those
who loved the Union and desired to maintain it. The
radicals of the Northern States, the Republican Party,
which cared nothing for the Union except so far as it
could be made subservient to their interests, and which
was ready to dissolve the Federation when it failed to
foster their fanatical designs, were not averse to a sepa-
ration from the Southern States, as has been clearly
shown by the authorities cited ; but they did not antici-
pate war, certainly not a war of such magnitude as their

i8o Seventy-live Years in Old Virginia

blind partisanship developed. Mr. Lincoln, then, when
he precipitated the culmination of these events by the
egregious folly of summoning 75,000 men to subdue
the Southern States,* was simply bluffing, but in a game
the most momentous, and with stakes the most stu-
pendous of any game which was ever played on this or
any other continent. And when Mr. Letcher called
him and showed him the mailed hand of Virginia, he
threw down his cards. He had lost. Nothing was
left him then but to accept his own wager, the wager
of battle — war! Two years later, as before stated, he
said to the chairman of the committee from Chicago
who waited on him and protested against furnishing
more troops, "Gentlemen, next to Boston, you are re-
sponsible for all of this blood which has been shed.
You asked for war, and I gave it to you." Not won-
derful that he should have wished to shift upon other
shoulders the responsibility of a war so unnecessary, so
cruel, so causeless, so costly in blood and treasure.
When, following Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee,
and Arkansas fell into line in a day, and bared their
front to the Federal menace of subjugation of their
sister States ; when the proud-spirited people of Ken-
tucky, and their worthy scions who had wrested Mis-
souri from the red man ; and when liberty-loving Mary-
land, fired by the memory of the traditions of her past,
all essayed to join their fortunes with the men of the
South, until throttled by the hand of the despot at their
doors — Mr. Lincoln realized, perhaps for the first time,
speaking in his own homely vernacular, "the bigness of
the job which he had undertaken." He was aware,
moreover, that he was not the President, by choice,
of the people of the United States, but only of a faction
of them, not all of which even sustained him ; and he

* 3ce Appendix,

Politics of the Ante-Belhim Period i8i

was aware that even if he were President, he had not
the right to declare war, that such power was vested
only in the Congress of the United States. The Sen-
ate, though radical, refused to ratify his course and to
declare it legal, yet with the black brow of his imper-
turbable will, and with a heart steeled to do the Devil's
bidding, he set section against section, State against
State, until this fair land had been deluged with fratri-
cidal blood and a million of yawning graves had re-
ceived a million of ghastly dead. No wonder that he
wished to shift the responsibility upon another, and that
he shrank from the office of High Priest at the altar
where this horrid holocaust was offered. He sought, of
course, to throw this responsibility upon the South.
Was not the South the aggressor? Did it not strike
the first blow, and did it not fire the first gun? And
dividing with his treacherous Secretary of State the
honor of the duplicity, he made it appear for a time
that he was the innocent and incorruptible patriot who
had striven in vain to keep the peace and to preserve
the integrity of the nation. Many people believe this
yet. To those at the North who have not taken such
interest in the subject as to lead them to examine into
the truthfulness or falsity of the record, we make no
address; but to the Southron, especially the young
Southron, who can coolly and without contradiction
listen to and accept such perversion of fact, we wish
to remark that he is unworthy of the noble heritage
of courage and of honor which he received from his
fathers. He should know enough of the traditions of
his Southern home to know that there was ever an
unwritten law, but sustained by judge and justice,
which made "the lie direct the first blow." Mr. Hal-
lam ("Constitutional History of England") more ele-
gantly, but not more forcibly, elaborates the law and
refers to it as of universal application. He says that

]S2 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

"the aggressor in a war, that is, he who begins it, is not
the first who uses force but the first who renders force
necessary." Who was the aggressor in the war be-
tween the States? We have seen that several of the
States of the South, after repeated acts of contumely,
aggression, and robbery on the part of certain States
of the North, had, in the exercise of their constituted
right, determined to leave a Union in which the com-
pact creating it had been repeatedly and wickedly
broken ; and taking possession of the common prop-
erty of such Union as lay within their borders, had
sent commissioners to their Northern brethren to ad-
just the terms upon which such property should be
divided. And we have quoted argument and senti-
ment, not from Southern, but from the highest North-
ern authorities, admitting and sustaining the legality
and the propriety of this course of action in the South.
Not one act of violence had been committed, nor any
blow had been struck anywhere in the South by the
Federal Government, and the Government had not at-
tempted to reclaim or retake any of its so called prop-
erty prior to May, 1861. But South Carolina, which
had left the Union six months before, had, in the har-
bor of Charleston, a fort still in the occupation of the
Federal troops, and which as long as it was held by
such troops was not only a menace but a source of
irritation and a seat of danger. She requested the
evacuation of this fort, and sent commissioners to
Washington to treat with the authorities in reference
to the terms on which the garrison should leave. The
Federal authorities refused to receive these commis-
sioners, but treated with them through Judges Camp-
bell and Nelson of the Supreme Court of the United
States, two gentlemen of the greatest integrity and of
the highest position in the land. It was agreed on
between the commissioners of South Carolina and Mr

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 183

Seward that Fort Sumter should not be fired upon
unless attempts were made, by the Government to
revictual or reinforce it, and meanwhile Mr. Seward
gave Judge Campbell to understand that Fort Sumter
would be evacuated in a few days.

In the meantime an expedition, called the "Relief
Squadron," of eleven ships, heavily armed, and twenty-
tour hundred men, was being gotten in readiness for
reinforcing Sumter and revictualing the garrison
— "peaceably if possible, forcibly if it must be." This
occupied twenty-three days, during the whole of which
time Mr. Seward kept Judge Campbell ignorant of the
facts, and even notifying him in writing on the day
the squadron was ordered to sail. May 7th, "Faith as
to Sumter fully kept." Judge Campbell demanded
of Mr. Seward what this deception meant, but no ex-
planation was ever given. He simply took Mr. Lin-
coln into partnership in his base duplicity, and the
words have passed into history, affixing to the joint
names a stigma as damnatory as ineffaceable. Only
at the last minute were Governor Pickens, of South
Carolina, and the Confederate authorities made aware
of the saiHng and destination of this fleet; and then,
without awaiting its appearance at their doors, they
reduced Fort Sumter and saved Charleston from the
horrors of a bombardment. By order of the Con-
federate authorities. General Beauregard fired the first
shot. But who made the first shot necessary? Who
was the aggressor? Let the South be silent if you
please. Let the North speak.

Mr. S. S. Cox, of New York, for twenty-four years
a prominent member of Congress, in his "Three De-
cades of the Federal Union," whilst discussing the sub-
ject of the "Republican Reprisals of Compromise" in
that remarkable session of i86o-'6i, says: "The real
question which history would regard as of the first im-

184 Scventy-Hve Years in Old Virginia

portance at this time was this, Could not this Union
have been made permanent by a timely settlement, in-
stead of being cemented by fraternal blood and military
rule?" And answers, "Yes, by an equitable adjustment
of the territory this was possible."

The Crittenden Compromise offered such an adjust-
ment. This proposition the radicals denounced. Not-
withstanding the President-elect was then in a minority
of a million of votes, they were determined, — as Mr.
Chase wrote to Portsmouth, Ohio, from the Peace
Convention, — "they intended to use the power whilst
they had it, and to prevent a settlement." "It had
been stated," continues Mr. Cox, "that in order to rid
the Republicans of the odium of not averting the war
when it was possible, the Northern members ten-
dered the South the Crittenden Compromise, and it
was rejected. TJiis is not true. It was tendered by
Southern Senators and Northern Democrats to the Re-
publicans, and they, in conjunction with some half a
dozen extremist Southern Senators, rejected it. It
was voted on only once in the House, and received only
80 votes against 113. These 80 votes were exclusively
Democratic, or 'Southern Americans,' like Gilmore,
Vance, and others. The Republican roll, beginning
with Adams, and ending with Woodruff, was a unit
against it. The climax is reached. One more earnest
appeal is made to the Republicans. Senator Cameron
answers it by moving a reconsideration. His motion
is called up on the i8th of February. He votes against
his own motion. On this occasion all the Democrats
voted for, and all the Republicans against it. The
truth is, there are nothing but sneers and skepticism
from the Republicans at any settlement. If every
Southern man and every Northern Democrat had voted
for this proposition it would have required nine Re-
publican votes then to have carried it by the requisite

Politics of the Ante-Belkim Period 185

two-thirds vote. Where are they? Dreaming with
Mr. Seward of a sixty-days struggle, or arranging for
the division of the patronage of the Administration."
(Congressional Globe, ist Part, 36th Congress, page
270.)

Whether, therefore, the public records are consult-
ed, or the inquirer goes within the veil and consults
those who know the men then at work in the commit-
tee, and in social life, one leading fact will always stand
stark and bold, viz : that with the help of a handful of
secessionists per se, the whole body of the Republicans
were, as Andrew Johnson described Senator Clark
when the latter defeated the Crittenden Compromise
by his amendment in the Senate, but "acting out
their own policy." In the light of subsequent events
that policy was developed. It was the destruction of
slavery at the peril of war, and disunion, or, as Senator
Douglas, of IHinois, expressed it, "a disruption of the
Union, believing it would draw after it, as inevitable
consequence, civil war, servile insurrection, and finally
the extermination of slavery in the United States."
Yet the leader and mouthpiece of this great faction de-
clared a few days later, upon the most solemn oath that
could be administered on the most momentous occa-
sion, that "he had neither the right nor the desire to
interfere with the existence of slavery in the States."

Once more, and from Northern testimony : Speak-
ing of the "Relief Squadron" sent to Charleston Har-
bor to reinforce and revictual Fort Sumter, Mr. Lunt,
of Massachusetts, says, "It was intended to draw the
fire of the Confederates, and was a silent aggression,
with the object of producing an active aggression from
the other side." Again, Mr. Williams, of Massachu-
setts: "There was no need for war. The action of
the Southern States was legal and constitutional."
The South was invaded, and a war of subjugation, des-

1 86 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia

tined to be the most gigantic which the world has
ever seen, was begun by the Federal Government
against the seceding States, in complete and amazing-
disregard of the foundation principle of its own exist-
ence, as affirmed in the Declaration of Independence,
viz: that "governments derive their just powers from
the consent of the governed" ; and, as established
by the War of the Revolution, for the people of the
States respectively. The South, with the eager and
resolute courage characteristic of her proud-spirited
people, accepted the contest thus forced upon her.

Who was the aggressor? The North has answered
through some of her truest and most patriotic sons.
The aggression had been a cunmlative evil and wrong
for twenty years, and its culmination occurred when
the Republican President, by the menace of an armed
fleet at Charleston, compelled the Confederate author-
itites to fire the first shot for defense. It was said that
the first shot fired at the British troops in Lexington,
Massachusetts, by a continental militiaman on the 17th
of April, 1775, awakened an echo of constitutional lib-
erty that went resounding through the whole world —
and the first shot fired from a Confederate battery at
Charleston, South Carolina, on the 12th of April,
1861, sounded the knell, not only of constitutional,
but of personal liberty, as far the power of the
United States Government extended. Mr. Lincoln
declared, in grim joke, that "he had the Constitution
locked up in his trunk in his room at the White
House" ; and Mr. Seward said to Lord Lyons, the
British Minister: "My Lord, I can touch a bell on my
right hand and order the arrest of a citizen of Ohio ;
I can touch a bell again, and order the imprisonment
of a citizen of New York ; and no power on earth but
that of the President can release them. Can the Queen
of England do as much?" Nor was this idle gas-

Politics of the Antc-Bcllnm Period 187

conade. With a stroke of his pen he swept out those
words, nuUiis liber Iwiiw capeatur, which, though writ-
ten in a dead language, were "vital with liberty and
worth," as Chatham's nervous eloquence declared, "all
classic." The Magna Charta, wrested from King
John at Runnymede, for more than six centuries the
pride and glory of the Saxon and his descendants, was
crumpled up as common paper and pigeon-holed in the
secret drawers of the radical administrator.

The writ of habeas eorpus was suspended in every
State, and the summons of the civil courts ignored, and
trial by jury abolished. Mr. Stanton became Military
Dictator, with military satraps of his own appointment,
in any number at his own discretion, and with author-
ity to hold, arrest, and imprison at their own will. The
consequences can scarcely be conceived of at this day.
There was a Bastile in every State. Mr. John A. Mar-
shall, in a book called the "American Bastile,"* gives
the history of more than an hundred of the victims of
the Bastile, from Col. Lambdin P. Melligan, of Illinois,
to Francis Key Howard, of Maryland. But these were
only a few of the hundreds that were arrested upon the
merest trumpery of a charge, and imprisoned without
trial and without appeal. "Nor was civil liberty re-
stored to the citizen at the close of the war," says Mr.
Cox, in the volume before quoted. "When secession
died, as it did in the last ditch, then it was that the
malign spirit which had hovered in the rear of the con-
flict came to the front to gloat over the prostrate South-
ern land. The gray picket was no longer at his post
to challenge the spirit of hate and eternal discord. No
right was now known but the right of spoliation and
conquest."

*See Appendix.

i88 Scz'cuiy-tn'c Years in Old Virginia

A new executor (President Johnson) had come with
a "very small olive branch in his hand." What cared
the victorious conspirators for that? They spat upon
it with contempt. They impeached him for that small
tender. What cared they for executive clemency?
Wliat cared they for constitutional guarantees or Su-
preme Court decisions? They would have no law but
martial law in the "conquered provinces." Then, af-
ter the war, began a contest for the restoration of civil
liberty, "a contest which was not finally settled until
the last year of Republican sway. It took almost a
quarter of a century to silence the guns of Moultrie
and Sumter." But there were brave men in the North
who, in the legislative halls and outside of them, de-
nounced this tyrannical usurpation of authority, and
who fought with reckless courage for the maintenance
and the restoration of the right. Ganson, Voorhees,
Vallandigham, Cox, Winter Davis, Garfield (afterwards
President), were conspicuous in this struggle, and their
memories should be kept alive and honored by every
lover of liberty. But the immediate effect of the first
shot is the question. It "fired the Northern heart,"
as Mr. Lincoln, according to his garrulous chroniclers
Nicolay and Hay, intended that it should do, and for
which reason he held the fleet inactive in Charleston
Harbor until after the reduction of Sumter and the sur-
render of the garrison. The sacred flag had been as-
sailed by the Rebels, and the "life of the country was
in danger." He had no difficulty in securing the 75,000
men at first called for, though the border States re-
fused to send their quota; nor had he any difficulty in
securing any number of volunteer troops, as long as
the idea prevailed that the fight was for the flag and
for the Union. But after it became evident that the
fight was for the negro, for the emancipation of the
slave, and for the subjugation of the white man, then

Politics of the Ante-Bellum Period 189

troops were only raised by levy, by conscription — and
conscription resisted by riot. But in vain! Personal
liberty had been sacrificed to the Moloch of hate and
fanaticism, and in four years the actual enUstment of
Army and Navy was 2,780,000 men volunteered, re-
cruited, or conscripted. Of these, 359,528 were killed
in battle or died of wounds or disease.

On the 31st of March, 1865, there were on the rolls
of the Union army 1,000,516 men; at the same time
the cost of the war in treasure had been $3,400,000,000 !
Nearly two and a half millions a day whilst it lasted.
The first shot had been effective at the North. But
the firing of the first shot had an effect at the South
which Lincoln perhaps did not contemplate, though
he could not have felt the same shock of surprise which
Governor Letcher's manly letter of refusal to furnish
Virginia's quota of troops for the Federal Army gave
him. It united the South. The people, as one man,
said to the Federal authorities, in the words of Gover-
nor Letcher, "you have chosen to inaugurate war, and
you shall have it." They but repeated Baldwin's re-
ply on his return from Washington after the failure
of the last effort for peace, "there are no Union men
now." Such unity of sentiment, such unanimity of
purpose never before existed, I suppose, in a popula-
tion of some four million of souls. Men of all classes
and conditions vied with each other in offer of self and
substance to resist Federal invasion and secure South-
ern independence.

It is not the purpose or within the province of these
papers to pursue the history of the protracted — the
fearful — war which followed, a veritable battle of the
giants, a shock to every instinct of humanity, and a
shame to Christian civilization. More than once, when
witnessing the bloody horrors of the field of carnage,
I have asked myself the question, "Can Central Africa,

190 Sczriify-fizx Years in Old Virginia

with all the savage cruelty of the brutal nature of its
people, exceed this show?" I only propose to recite
briefly some account, a bird's-eye view, of the contest
as it came within the scope of my observation.

Five days after the call of Simon Cameron, Secretary
of War, for Virginia's quota of troops for Federal ser-
vice, the Convention, then in session, passed an or-
dinance authorizing and requiring the Governor of the
Commonwealth "to call into the service of the State
as many volunteers as may be necessary to repel inva-
sion, and protect the citizens of the State in the pres-
ent emergency." These volunteers were to be receiv-
ed in companies and organized into regiments, bri-
gades, and divisions, according to the force required.

On the 2 1 St of April, 1861. the Governor issued the
following proclamation : "By virtue of authority vested
in the Executive by the Convention. I, John Letcher,
Governor of the Commonwealth of \^irginia. do here-
by order that each volunteer company equipped and
armed, whether infantry, artillery, or riflemen, in the
counties lying west of the city of Richmond, between
Richmond and the Blue Ridge, and in the Valley of
Virginia, from the county of Rockbridge to the Ten-
nessee line, establish forthwith, on the lines of
speedv communication, a rendezvous, and hold them-
selves in readiness for immediate orders: telegraph or
send by express to the Executive the names of the
captains, number of men. and description of force."
But before this, on the 18th, General Wm. B. Talia-
ferro was ordered to assemble troops at Norfolk for
the purpose of capturing the Gosport Navy Yard.
This was done secretly, in hope of getting possession
of the valuable stores of ordnance, ammunition, etc.,
before thev could be destroved bv the Federals.

CHAPTER IV

The War.

The Fourth Virginia Battalion Receives Orders — Quartered in Nor-
folk—The Companies and Officers — I Accompany the Battalion
as Captain and Assistant Surgeon — Am Again Elected to the
Senate — Ordered to Take my Seat by the Secretary of War —
Obey the Order and Resign, and Apply For Orders For the
Army — An Interview — Ordered to Open Hospitals in Peters-
burg and Made Surgeon in Charge — Appointed Post Surgeon —
How Some Supplies Were Acquired — Events Preceding Siege
of Petersburg — Arrival of the Enemy — Incidents of the Siege — ■
Ordered to Remove the Hospital Patients and Correspondence
With General Lee — The "Fiasco of the War" — An Adventure
Before the Lines of the Enemy — "In Vinculis" — The Crater —
General Mahone's Part in the Crater Affair — I am Visited by
a Shell at Night — More Incidents of Our Great Generals, and
Another of Mahone in Particular — What Manner of Man Was
He? What Manner of Men Were They? — Five Forks — Evacua-
tion and Events Immediately Following.

On the 19th of April, 1861, D. A. Weisinger, major
of the Fourth Virginia Battalion, made up exclusively
of Petersburg troops, was ordered to hold his com-
mand in readiness to move at a minute's notice. On
the morning of the 20th the command was called
out, and marched to the Norfolk and Western depot,
where they found a train awaiting them, the engine
fired up and pufifing steam, as if awaiting, with the
same impatience as the men, the order to start. The
destination, of course, was "unknown to the rank and
file," but it was an open secret that Norfolk was the
destination and the taking of the Navy Yard the duty
assig-ned. The troops got off about noon amidst
the cheers and tears and prayers of the hundreds
who had assembled to see them leave. This was war,
suddenly and in earnest, and amongst a people who
had known for a third of a century only the blessings

192 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

of peace, and who had seen only the martial parade
and heard only the fife and drum of a holiday soldiery.
The excitement incident to the scenes of that day can-
not be described, as mother, wife, sister caught hold
of the soldier hurrying- away to battle, and pressed the
last loving kiss to his lips, and as the soldier himself
gathered his loved ones in his arms and folded them to
his heart in one last embrace. Imagination may paint,
but no pen can depict the overwhelming emotions
which crowded that hour. Before the battalion em-
barked on the cars, the Rev. Dr. Piatt, before referred
to in these memoirs, and who himself had been a soldier
in the Mexican War, made a short address, and offered
prayer that "God would cover the heads of the boys in
the day of battle." The companies were then drawn up
in double order, the rear rank confronting the first, and
the citizens passed through the line, bidding a final fare-
well, and begging such blessings upon the soldiers as
their tumultuous hearts would permit them to frame.
There was no element of humor on the occasion at the
time, but a recollection of some of the scenes after-
wards made me smile in the days that followed. As
the days grew into years, those callow boys, scarred
and seamed into veterans by war's rough usage, could
recount by the bivouac fire, with a laugh, many a joke
upon each other which had its birth upon that solemn
morning. "Judgment day," it was yclept in soldier's
vernacular, as it was not believed that any day other
than the Judgment could ever be ushered in with such
overwhelming and stupendous excitement in any class
of people, high or low, white or colored.

Late in the afternoon we reached the South Branch
of the Elizabeth River, a few miles from Norfolk, and
the troops were ordered out of the train, a line was
formed parallel with the road, and for the first time the
ball cartridge was rammed home in the bright pieces

The War 193

which heretofore had only fired blank cartridges in
salute. I do not know what were the feelings of any
others, but for myself I confess that I realized, as I had
not done before, that war was upon us, and that an un-
pleasant duty was ours. This feeling was intensified
to some extent when Captain Dodson, commanding
Co. E, the crack company of the battalion, in a few
well-chosen words of encouragement cautioned the
men to be "steady, to look along the line of their piece,
and to fire low." We had expected to go into battle
and to encounter resistance, either before getting to
Gosport or in driving the Federals from the Navy Yard
by assault — a desperate undertaking for some four hun-
dred green troops, whatever their spirit and courage,
against marines and trained soldiers of the Regular
Army, of whose number we were ignorant, but presum-
ably in force sufficient to hold and protect the valuable
property which we coveted and were contending for.
But there was to be no fight yet, thanks to a strategy
of Mahone, then president of the Norfolk and Peters-
burg R. R. He had empty cars run to and fro all day
for several miles outside of Norfolk, conveying to the
Federals the idea of the frequent arrival of troops in
num.bers. They, ignorant of what these numbers were,
and indisposed to try issue with an unknown foe, hur-
riedly fired the Navy Yard, spiked most of the guns,
and left for the safe retreat of Fortress Monroe. This
maneuver of Mahone showed the instinct of the sol-
dier, into which he developed as soon as opportunity
ofifered — and opportunities were many before the war
was over. It is mild encomium to say that no oppor-
tunity was ever lost, and that he developed into one
of Lee's most active and trusted lieutenants. We
reached Norfolk about dark, to find the enemy gone on
board the vessels which they had not burned or scut-
tled, and steaming down the river for Old Point Com-

194 Scvcnty-iive Years in Old Virginia

fort. That nioht the Ijattahon was quartered in a large
empty buildins^ in the city, whilst the staff rested in
quiet at the National Hotel. Indeed that was head-
quarters for a week or more, although on the next day
the battalion was moved out in the neighborhood of
the old Fair Grounds. A few days afterwards it was
ordered into quarters at Berkley, then little more than
a village of straggling houses, and located at the U. S.
Marine Hospital, which, on the evacuation of Norfolk,
the Federals had left comparatively empty. To this
point headquarters were also transferred, where we
made ourselves quite comfortable, though not in a style
comparable to our first quarters of the first week of our
first service in the war between the States. The Fourth
Battalion as it left Petersburg consisted of four com-
panies of infantry and one company of artillery, and
numbered, rank and file, about four hundred men.
The companies were —

The Citv Guards — Capt. John P. May and Lieuts.
Chas. E. Waddell and F. AT. Wright.

A Grays — Capt. Jno. Ivyon and Lieuts. Robert Bow-
den and Thos. P. Pollard.

B Grays— Capt. Thos. A. Bond and Lieuts. L. L.
Marks and S. G. White.

Petersburg Pifles — Capt. Daniel Dodson and Lieuts.
P. R. Banks and Jno. R. Patterson.

The staff consisted of Maj. D. A. \\'eisiger, com-
manding; Lieut. W. F. Carter, quartermaster: Lieut.
Samuel Stevens, commissary, and Capt. Jno. Herbert
Claiborne, assistant surgeon.

Light Artillery attached to battalion — Capt. J. N.
Nichols and TJeut. Edward Graham. This battery
was detached from the Fourth Battalion on the day
following our arrival at Norfolk, and T saw no more
of it until the Qth day of June. 1864. The story of that
day will be told later.

The War 195

The Fourth Battalion as it left Petersburg on the
20th of April, 1 86 1, was made up of the flower of the
manhood of the Cockade City. After four years of
service it had been so decimated by disease, by death,
by promotion, and by transfer that it showed scarcely
more than a skeleton of the original body. It was the
nucleus upon which was formed the famous Twelfth
Virginia Regim.ent, whose banner bore the device of
almost every field on which the Army of Northern Vir-
ginia grappled with the enemy, from Seven Pines to
Appomattox, and whose flag, stained with the smoke
of battle and shredded by ball and shell, was never sur-
rendered, but torn into slips and buried in the bosoms,
right over the hearts, of the veteran survivors. On
being formed into a regiment, two other companies
from Petersburg — the Lafayette Guards, Capt. D. N.
Jarvis and Lieut. J. E. Tyler, and the Archer Rifles,
Capt. F. H. Archer, Lieuts. J. R. Lewellyn, Douglas
Chappell, and D. W. Paul — were attached to it, and also
a company from Richmond, the Richmond Grays, and
a companv from Greenesville countv, Capt. Everard
Field.

Major VVeisiger was raised to the rank of colonel,
with F. A. Taylor, of Gloucester County, as lieutenant-
colonel, and Maj. E. Brockett as major. Colonel
Weisiger retained the same staff, which went up a
grade with him, the lieutenants being raised to the
rank of captain, and the surgeon to the rank of major.
Dr. J. W. Claiborne, who was a private in Co. E, the
Petersburg Rifles, was promoted to the rank of cap-
tain and made assistant surgeon. The regiment was
then ordered to an entrenched camp, about two miles
below Norfolk, which it held, with the Sixth Virginia
Regiment, commanded by Col. Wm. Mahone, until the
evacuation of Norfolk in the following spring.

196 Scventy-iive Years in Old Virginia

The days spent at these quarters were gala days, and
soldiering an idle, and mostly a pleasant, pastime.
Guard mounting every morning and dress parade every
evening filled the role of duty. Secure and commodi-
ous tents, with plank floors, and chimneys during the
winter, made everything very cosy and comfortable
in quarters — and as for the menu, the regulation ration
was not considered. Located near the market of Nor-
folk, with its rich stores of fish, flesh, and fowl, with
products not yet depleted, and boxes from home sup-
plementing any possible want, the inner man did not
suffer ; and with books, papers, and periodicals to while
away the idle moments, and the frequent visits of the
girls to the camps to enliven the scene, soldier life for
the first year of the war was very, very tolerable.
There was little sickness, and no casualty or death oc-
curred in the whole command to mar its symmetry from
April, 1 861, to December of the same year, when I was
ordered to another field.

The coming campaign of the following year attested
the travesty and the simulation of war of our first year
of service. From the opening of the campaign of 1862,
and from thenceforth to the tragic end at Appomattox,
the Twelfth Virginia knew nothing more of ease, of
rest, of comfort ; saw no more holiday soldiering —
but WAR, WAR, in all of its terrible earnestness, its
privations, its sufferings, in cold and heat, in hunger
and sickness, in bivouac, in battle, in wounds, in death.
And when overpowered, and the last order from their
commander came, "surrender," the little handful left,
bereft of all but honor, threw down their arms, still
bright and burnished, and accepted the honorable
terms which the valor and endurance of the Confeder-
ate soldier had exacted from the victors, and returned
to their homes to exhibit the same courage and forti-
tude in peace in rebuilding their broken fortunes. Here

The IV ar 197

at Appomattox 1 met again, for the first time in three
years, my old comrades, or those of them who had
survived those bitter years, and as I had marched with
them in all the pride and hope of their early days of
soldiering, so I sat down with them at the last in the
dust and ashes of final defeat.

But I anticipate my story. When I left Petersburg
with the Fourth Virginia Battalion in April, 1861, my
term of service as Senator in the District of Peters-
burg and Prince George had expired, and as I had not
been in accord with my constituents on the question of
secession and the necessity for early and aggressive
action, I supposed that my political career was finished.
But whilst in the field, and without offering myself for
the place, I was again elected to the Senate, my con-
stituents recognizing, though too late for the common
good, the wisdom of the course which I had counseled,
and wishing, I suppose, to compensate me by the com-
pHment for the lack of confidence which they had shown
in my teachings. In the meantime I was no longer
a Virginia soldier nor subject to Virginia authorities.
One week after the passage of the Ordinance of Se-
cession the Convention of Virginia appointed commis-
sioners to meet Vice-President A. H. Stevens, commis-
sioner on the part of the Confederate Government, al-
ready set up in Alabama, and an agreement was made
and ratified whereby the constitution of the Confeder-
acy was adopted, and in May the seat of the Confeder-
ate Government was removed to Richmond and the
troops of the State were transferred to the authorities
of the Confederate States.

When the Legislature of Virginia assembled, there-
fore, in December, 1861, it was discovered that none
of the soldiers in the field who had been elected to civil
oflfice by the people could leave their posts in the Army
to take possession of such offices. An officer in the

19^ Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia

Army could resign his commission and then take civil
office, but as I did not choose to resign my commission,
I was ordered by the Secretary of War, with other
officers who occupied similar positions, to report to
Richmond, and take my seat in the Senate of Virgina.
I obeyed the order, took my seat in the Senate, wrote
my resignation as Senator, and sent it to the President
of the Senate. A new election was directed to be held,
and on the appearance of my successor, Hon. R. R.
Collier, I reported to the Secretary of War, Judah P.
Benjamin, for reassignment to duty in the Army.
When I called on Mr. Benjamin, and announced my
name, he spoke up promptly, saying, ''I ordered you
a month ago to take your seat in the Senate of Vir-
ginia." How he could have recalled this fact amidst
the many more important and urgent matters which
demanded his attention, I could never imagine. How-
ever, I replied as promptly, that 1 had obeyed his order,
taken my seat in the Senate, sent in my resignation, a
new election had been held, and that my successor was
in the city. He regarded me in rather a quizzical man-
ner, as if he thought that I must be a little daft to wish
to leave Richmond and to go back to the Army. How-
ever, he said nothing more, but wrote an order, and
directed me to take it to the Surgeon-General, Dr.
S. P. Moore. 1 obeyed this order also, but not so
cheerfully. I had had one interview with General
Moore, soon after I received my appointment from the
Governor of Virginia as surgeon of the Twelfth Vir-
ginia Regiment, at which he treated me with such dis-
courtesy that I had no wish to meet him again. I was
in Richmond on business soon after General Moore
had been appointed Surgeon-General, and in obedience
to army regulations, called on the chief of my depart-
ment, as was required, to pay my respects. He took
my card when I handed it to him, and without giving

The War 199

me any sign of recognition, threw it away. I felt the
rudeness keenly, but stood before him unmoved, in-
tending to stand in my place all day, if necessary, until
I received some notice. After a few minutes he lit a
cigarette, which he made extemporaneously, and mo-
tioned to me to sit down. That drew my fire, and I
said, "Dr. Moore, being in the city of Richmond on
business, I have called at the headquarters of the chief
of my department to pay my respects as required by
army regulations. I have no favors to ask, and with
your permission will retire," and without permission,
and without saluting, retired. After this first inter-
view, I was averse to a second. I presented my order,
however, and on this occasion received prompt recog-
nition. He asked to what command I belonged, and
on noting the regiment, remarked on the exceptionally
good report which had been returned from it, that there
had been no death from disease in nine months, etc.,
and then asked me where I was from. He then told
me he could not send me back to my old command,
but to go home and await orders ; that he wanted me
for an especial purpose. I lost no time in withdraw-
ing from his presence or in finding my home, but after
six weeks of an unasked furlough, for I heard nothing
from the Department in tb.at time, I began to feel a
decided curiosity to know what "especial purpose" I
was wanted for and what was to be my destination,
and thinking possibly I had been overlooked or for-
gotten, I reported by letter for duty. In a very short
time I received a curt reply that I would be "called
for when I was wanted." This did not satisfy my
curiosity, but it silenced me. I made no further in-
quiry of General Moore as to my duty or destination.
He was a man of great brusqueness of manner, and
gave ofTense to many who called on him. whatever their
business, and without anv regard to their station or

200 Scz'cnty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

rank, though he was an able execiitiv^e officer, and T
believe an efficient and impartial one. After the war
he remained in Richmond, and I am told was a useful
and honored citizen.

Soon after the campaign of 1862 opened on the Pen-
insula, I received my orders to secure a suitable build-
ing in Petersburg and open a hospital with four hun-
dred beds, and to purchase a large amount of ice, as
much as could be had. and to house it. I rented a
large and comparatively new tobacco factory, known
as Ragland's, which stood at the corner of Jones
Street and West Washing"ton, just opposite the resi-
dence of Hon. W. B. Mcllwaine. It was a three-story
building, commodious and well ventilated, and furnish-
ed regulation space for about four hundred beds. This
I soon fitted up and put in commission. It could not
have been better fitted for hospital purposes if it had
been built with that view, and had never before seen
any hosDital civil or milit;irv, which surpassed it in
its appointments. I was made surgeon in charge, and
Drs. R. E. Lewis, and G. W. Claiborne, my brother,
were sent me as assistant surgeons. Dr. John Chappell
was made apothecary and mustered in as hospital
steward, and Mr. T. R. Moore chief ward master, and
Mr. Jos. Todd commissary, both mustered in as hos-
pital stewards. These gentlemen retained their places
as long as T was surgeon in charge, for eighteen months
or two years, and a more faithful and efficient corps of
men could not have been secured. In about twelve
months my brother was transferred to the Navy as as-
sistant surgeon, but the other gentlemen held their
places until the end of the war.

About six months prior to this a hospital after the
pavilion order had been established at West End Park,
then the Fair Grounds, known as the Confederate
States Hospital, of which Dr. Blackwood Strachan was

The War 201

the first surgeon in charge. Some six months after-
wards he was transferred to the field, and the surgeon
and assistant surgeons in charge were often changed.
During the winter of 1 861 -'62 the North Carolina Hos-
pital was organized and commissioned in Cameron's
Factory, and the South Carolina Hospital in Osborne
and Chieves' Factory, now John H. Machn & Son's,
and the Virginia Hospital in Watson and McGill's Fac-
tory, then known as Robert Leslie's.

In 1862 Dr. Peter Hines, in charge of the North
Carolina Hospital, being senior surgeon, was made Sur-
geon of the Post, and all the hospitals were under his
care, and all reports and requisitions were made
through him. In 1863 he was ordered to Raleigh and
I was appointed Senior Surgeon, or Post Surgeon, a
position which I held until the retreat of Lee's army in
April, 1863, with the exception of three months of sick-
ness, when Dr. Douglass, of Georgia, took my place.

My family, which had been refugeeing in Louisburg,
North Carolina, during my absence from home early
in the war, were now brought home, and my life was
as comfortable as the privations and perils of war
permitted. Rations were light, provisions of all sorts
scarce, luxuries unknown, and clothing without suspi-
cion of style or fashion. Cut ofif by the blockade from
foreign supplies, we were dependent upon home re-
sources, already overtaxed and imperfect, for almost
everything. Only cornbread, peas, and sorghum were
plentiful. The latter took the place of molasses, and
at the same time was known as "long sweetening,"
in the place of sugar, for our coffee, which consisted
of parched rye or dried sweet potatoes. It was also
the saccharine element of the "pies" without which
the soldier's menu was never complete, and for which
his appetite seemed insatiable, they being the first
investment from his meagre pay. Only the blockade

202 Scrcjify-iiir Years in Old Virginia

runners, or tlieir intimate friends, could indulge in the
luxuries of eating and drinking, or in the display of
fine clothes.

A great many adventures were made in shipping
cotton and tol)acco from this city and from Richmond
through the blockade ?it Wilmington; and when a ves-
sel successfully made the voyage to Nassau, the near-
est British port, and more successfully returned, laden
with articles of prime demand, the Government very
properly was the first purchaser, and thus supplies for
the Army, and especially for the hospitals, were often
gotten. Hospital supplies were especially difificult to
procure, and our refined and Christian enemies, who
had made such articles as chloroform, morphine, qui-
nine, and indeed everything which could solace human
sufifering or save human life, — whether of man, wo-
man, or child, — contraband of war, gloated over the
capture of a blockade-runner carrying such cargo, as
ghouls ravishing the graves of the dead. However,
we kept, during the last year of the war, and especially
during the siege of Petersburg, fairly supplied with
some of these essentials. I had men in my service
whilst I was chief of all the Military General Hospitals,
during the siege, who discovered that cupidity had not
been eliminated from the Christian virtues of all of our
enemies, and many a good trade was effected, nearer
home than Nassau, of tobacco, snuff, and cotton yarns
for quinine, morphine, and chloroform.

When in June, 1864, the Army of Northern Virginia
filed into the trenches at Petersburg, and more than
fifty thousand men were added to the population of
the city, and the daily casualties called for more hos-
pital service, the difficulties of meeting the exigencies
entailed thereby were of course greatly increased. But
with the help of a most efficient corps of assistants, T
am sure [ can sav that the sick and wounded did not

The War 20^

suffer for anything necessary to their comfort. I had
one assistant especially, Sergeant Joseph Todd, who, as
a forager, could ferret out any food to be found in the
city or its vicinage. His genius in that direction
amounted to instinct, and to the last day of the occu-
pancy of the city by Lee's army he never failed to re-
spond to any call. And when money — the money
which we received from the Government for the pur-
chase of supplies — failed to procure them, I made re-
quisition for tobacco and cotton yarns, and in any
quantity I thought necessary, the Department never
failing to honor the requisition, and putting these ar-
ticles in the hands of Mr. Todd, I never feared for re-
sults. After the war he went to Baltimore, and I heard
obtained the place of purveyor or steward to the
Maryland General Hospital, in w^hich I am sure he
illustrated his peculiar talents.

After the arrival of Lee's army my duties as senior
or executive officer were greatly increased, and my
position was neither safe nor a sinecure. From the
first day of the occupation of the city to the last, I had
no further opportunity of taking a knife in my hand or
of administering a dose of physic. I received my first
introduction to my new duties on the third or fourth
day of General Lee's arrival.

The enemy had reached Petersburg on the afternoon
or evening of the 15th of June, 2^,000 infantry, under
General Smith, and extending their lines parallel with
our works from near the Appomattox River to the
farm of Colonel Avery, about two miles southeast of y
the city, had opened their fire upon the few troops in
our trenches — 2,200 of all arms, including old men
and boys — and had nearly swept them ofif the earth.
They did not assault, however, nor even the next morn-
ing, when we had fewer still to oppose them ; but ac-
cording to their own historian, Swintpn, and to Gen-

204 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

eral Grant's expressed disgust, awaited the arrival of
General Lee, whose forces only entered the trenches
at eleven or twelve o'clock, replacing the gallant men
who for twenty-four hours held their position against
such odds. Lee dismissed the boys and old men of the
militia with cheers.

But still the enemy did not assault, but entrenching
themselves, though outnumbering the besieged army
five to one, they commenced the tactics of moving on
the left flank which they had inaugurated at the Wilder-
ness a month before. They reported in these move-
ments, which they termed assault, a loss of 11,400 men
in three days, and got another lesson in war which
they had been slow to learn, besides the loss of 60,-
000 from the Wilderness to their present base, a loss of
men greater in number than General Lee had in the
whole army with which he had opposed them. They
had made their last assault at Cold Harbor, a few days
before reaching Petersburg, when with 80,000 men
they rushed on our extemporized works, and in less than
an hour lost 6,000 men killed and 12,000 wounded, and
refused to assault again. It is said when an assault was
afterwards ordered at Petersburg that General Meade
replied, "it is useless to order it, these men will not
do it."

But I diverge from the story of my personal trans-
fer of duty, and, I might add, my personal contact with
General Lee — not introduction, as I did not have that
honor until some time afterwards. As soon as the
enemy brought up their siege guns, or heavy artillery,
which was only a few days after taking their position,
they opened on the city with shell without the slight-
est notice, or without giving opportunity for the re-
moval of non-combatants, the sick, the wounded, or the
women and children out of range of fire. The fire at
first seemed chiefly directed toward the Old Market,

The War 205

presumably on account of the South Side Railroad de-
pot, which was situated near there, and about which
troops would naturally be collected. But they soon
enlarged their operations, and swept Bollingbrook and
Lombard Streets, Bank Street and lower High Street,
and Sycamore Street as high as the corner of Wash-
ington. The steeples of Tabb Street Presbyterian, St.
Paul's Episcopal, and Washington Street Methodist
Churches offered targets for their fire, and the Post
Office and Custom House also came in for their part
of the compliment.

To persons unfamiliar with the infernal noise made
by the screaming, the ricochetting, and the bursting of
shells, it is impossible to describe the terror and the
demoralization which was immediately created. The
shelling on the first day continued only for a few hours
in the morning, though subsequently we were treated
usually with a morning and evening serenade. Many
of the citizens left at once, not standing upon the order
of their going, and fled to the country to the west of
the city wherever they could find a house to harbor
them. Others left more leisurely, taking a few neces-
sary articles of furniture, and made themselves as com-
fortable as possible under the circumstances, whilst
others, whose homes were least exposed to the fire,
made bomb-proofs in their yards or gardens, into which
they betook themselves as soon as the firing began,
and from which they would emerge when it was over,
and return to their usual business. It usually con-
tinued for only two or three hours.

These bomb-proofs were holes dug in the ground
about five or six feet deep, of dimensions commen-
surate with the number of persons .they were sup-
posed to accommodate, and were covered with heavy
timbers, and these with earth, the door or entrance
facing to the west, the direction opposite the batteries

2o6 Sci'cnty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

from which the shells came. Some of these bomb-
proofs were made quite comfortable, and ladies could
take a book or their sewing into them. But though
some parts of the city were more exposed and more
unsafe than others, yet it was evident that no portion
of it was secure from danger, and General Lee, calling
attention to this fact, directed me on the 3rd or 4th day
of his arrival to empty every hospital, and to remove
the sick and wounded, with hospital stores, furniture,
attaches, etc., and place them on the cars of the South-
side R. R., their destination not committed to me.

There were then about three thousand on the morn-
ing roll from the hospitals. To remove this number
with the limited means of transportation at hand was
no small job. I commenced the work promptly, how-
ever, but on the second or third day some surgeon who
thought his wounded were not being moved with suf-
ficient alacrity, reported the fact, and I received a mes-
sage from General Lee that he "hoped it would not be
necessary to order me a second time to remove the
wounded from under fire." I knew pretty well where
the complaint came from, as it was reported that morn-
ing that a shell had fallen in one of the hospitals, and
that a soldier had taken it up and thrown it out of a
window before it exploded. This incident, of course,
was demoralizing, but every effort was being made to
remove the wounded as soon as possible, and I thought
it ungenerous in one of my corps of assistants to make
such a report. I replied to General Lee that every
effort was being made to comply with his order, but
with the limited means at hand three thousand sick and
wounded men could not be removed very expeditiously
and that many could not be moved without more
danger to their lives than they risked from the shell.
Then came a rejoinder from the General that after no
battle which he had ever fought "were there three

The IV ar 207

thousand men who conld not be moved." To which I
repHed, calHng his attention to the fact that men just
wounded in battle and falling in full strength and
health would easily bear transportation, but that the
men whom I was called upon to move at this juncture
were men who had lain in Hospital, many of them for
months, debilitated from the heat and festering wounds,
or from sickness, and that some of them would die upon
the stretchers if taken out ; that two had already died,
and many had begged to be permitted to take their
chances with the shells rather than to be taken away;
and asking that he send inspectors from his staff to
relieve me and to take charge of the work. He sent
Majors Breckenridge and Winfield, who, after seeing
the situation, not only declined to relieve me, but made
their report and advised that the whole matter be left
to my discretion.

I removed in a few days all that would bear transpor-
tation, and reserved the Confederate States Hospital,
and the hospitals at West End Park, and the Central
Pavilion, reporting that they were but little exposed
to fire, and that I thought it judicious to keep these
hospitals open for the desperately wounded that were
now coming in daily from the lines. The General ac-
cepted the report. I presume, as I never heard any-
thing more from it, and received no further order to
remove the wounded or to close the hospitals. The
hospital at Central Park I did not close until after the
fight at the Crater on the 30th of July following. This
hospital was reserved mostly for the wounded Federal
prisoners, and with the Federal wounded brought in
from the Crater it was crowded even beyond its ca-
pacity, and it was impossible to supply medical oiifi-
cers to take charge of those needing immediate atten-
tion.

2o8 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

There v^tere five Federal surgeons, prisoners taken
not at the Crater, but belonging I think to Wilson's
Cavalry Raiders, which Fitz Lee had cornered and cut
to pieces, or captured, near Reams Station a few days
before. I approached these doctors and asked them if
they would not like to take a hand in some surgery,
offering them as inducement all the Hberty and privil-
eges compatible with the rules of war. They said they
would be glad to do so, and I put them to work in the
hospital under Dr. Robert Page, who was the Confed-
erate surgeon, allowing them a detail of Federal un-
wounded prisoners to act as nurses and assistants, and
directing Dr. Page to make requisition for all the
chloroform, morphine, etc., which they might need.
The wounded prisoners, mostly negroes, were being
brought back and laid on the grass preparatory to ex-
amination, and such operations as seemed necessary.

I did not visit the hospital until the next day about
noon, when I received a message from Mr. George W.
Boiling, whose mansion was very near the hospital,
telling me that he thought "I had better look after mat-
ters there." On reaching the place I was shocked be-
yond expression to find about an hundred and fifty
wounded negroes, who had been brought in since I left,
and were lying about on the grounds, most of them
naked; and with every conceivable form of wounds
and mutilation, were shrieking, praying, and cursing
in their agony and dehrium, their wounds undressed
and festering under a summer sun. My first thought
was, "is this Christian civilization."

The Federal surgeons whom I had engaged the day
before were lounging in front of their quarters, doing
nothing. Dr. Page, a sturdy and reliable officer, but
not a mild-mannered man, was in altercation with
them, using language more pertinent to the occasion
than polite, and after suppressing him I took a turn

The War 209

myself, and pointing to the scene of horror, the result
of their neglect, asked them what it meant, reminding
them of their promise to take charge of their wounded
and of the especial privileges accorded to them. Their
spokesman replied that they "were sick, and tired, and
disgusted, and that they were prisoners of war, and
were not in duty bound to do any work." "Very well,"
1 replied, "but you should have said this yesterday when
I approached you. As prisoners of war I know very
well what to do with you," and calling an orderly di-
rected him to go to Major Bridgeforth, General Lee's
provost marshal and ask him to send me a sergeant and
a guard to take away five medical officers. One of
them asked immxcdiately, "Major, where are you going
to send us?" "To the prison at Andersonville, Geor-
gia, to-morrow morning," I replied. "Do not send
me," he said, "give me another opportunity," a request
which they all joined in, "give us another opportunity."
1 was but too ready to acquiesce, as I could not pos-
sibly, with the medical force under my orders, have
given prompt attention to these poor creatures, and I
gave them the opportunity. The next morning every-
thing was in ship-shape order. Surgery had triumphed
and all the survivors were comfortably bedded in the
hospital. i\mong the requisitions necessary to render
them presentable was one for one hundred and fifty
suits of underclothes to replace those stolen from them
during the first night of their captivity, and before they
came under the hospital guard.

After a few days, and before I could remove the pa-
tients, miy surgeon friends complained that they had
nothing out of which to eat the poor fare furnished
them except tin dishes and tin cups; moreover, that
their quarters v/ere not safe from shelling or even bul-
lets ; and finally, that white and colored soldiers were
bunked together indiscriminately in adjoining beds.
li

210 Sci'ciiiy-fii'e Years in Old Virginia

I gravely asked them to submit their grievances in
writing, and that I would forward the paper to head-
quarters, which I did without comment, knowing very
well what the result would be. On receiving the paper,
General Lee sent ]\Iajor Breckenridge, of his staff, to
investigate the matters of complaint. I never heard
what report he made to the General, and presume,
from the line of remark which was submitted to the
complainants, that he exonerated me. He said to them
in language as polite as the peculiar circumstances
would permit, that it came with bad grace from men
who had marauded the surrounding country with Wil-
son's Raiders, destroying the food of the innocent and
unarmed people, pillaging where anything was left to
pillage, stealing and carrying away spoons and table
ware, and breaking such v;are as they could not carry
away, to complain that they had but little to eat, and no
vessel out of which to eat it. Moreover, that in being
assigned to hospital treatment. General Lee had or-
dered that no distinction be shown between white sol-
diers and colored soldiers, that if they could fight side
by side, they could sleep side by side. To the last sub-
ject of complaint, that it was not a safe place, but ex-
posed to occasional fire, I called them to note that the
missiles endangering their lives endangered ours also,
and that they were not fired by our men, but theirs,
who knew as well as we where the yellow flag floated,
or, if ignorant of our locality, I would but be too glad
to send a flag of truce to signify our position. Soon
after this date the hospital was closed, the sick and
wounded transferred to other hospitals, and the pris-
oners who were well, including the surgeons, were
turned over to the provost marshal. I never knew
anything more of their fate.

Two other hospitals were kept open, however, and
were constantly filled to their utmost capacity with the

The War 211

ill and badly wounded. Besides this, many private resi-
dences were opened to soldiers and officers who could
not get hospital room, or who were fortunate enough
to have friends in circumstances to receive and take
care of them. Many soldiers owed their lives to the
tender ministrations of women, who in their own
homes nursed them and shared with them their little
store of food. And if there ho. a God who looks down
from heaven and registers such deeds of love in His
Book, many an entrance has been already administered
by the Master to them who gave the "cup of cold water
in His name."

We have spoken of the failure of the Federal army
to enter Petersburg on the night of the 15th of June
and morning of the i6th, — it could hardly be said to
take Petersburg, when so little resistance could be
made, — a failure which their own historians denomi-
nated the "fiasco of the war." But there were two other
occasions on which an entrance could have been effect-
ed even more easily. On one occasion, during the first
week in May, 1864, about the 6th or 7th, I think, But-
ler, after landing at Bermuda Hundred, where he had
been sent by General Grant to lead a column against
Richmond on the south side of the James, where the
Army of the Potomac had fought its way down from
the Wilderness on the north side, dispatched a brigade
of troops to threaten Petersburg from the Richmond
Turnpike. This force reached Swift Creek, and halted
on the hill, just north of the bridge on the turnpike
which spans that stream. Had they pushed on imme-
diately I do not know what force we could have mus-
tered to oppose them, but fortunately troops from the
south had been ordered to Beauregard, who was hold-
ing Butler in check in his "on to Richmond" from the
south side of James River, and a regiment from South
Carolina, the Twenty-second, I believe, Colonel Hey-

212 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

ward, arrived in Petersburg just at the right time and
was hurried through the city to the scene of action.
After a hurried march of three miles which brought
them to the bridge, they crossed and charged up the
hill to find they had encountered a whole brigade of
Yankees. There was a fierce fight, and the houses on
the pike, especially the old Arrow-field Church, showed
the marks of the contest for many years after the war.
The South Carolinians were terribly cut up, but they
held their own and drove the enemy, or at least the
enemy retired, as far as Walthall Station, or its vicinity,
on the Richmond and Petersburg Railroad.

The next day another regiment from South Carolina,
Colonel Graham, arrived, and Hankin's Battery of light
artillery from Sussex or Surry County, Virginia. I
showed these troops out of the city in the direction of
the enemy, and the following day battle \\ as renewed
at Port Walthall, with the lines of the enemy on the
east and ours on the west of the railroad to the north of
the station. The battle must have been very hotly con-
tested, and at very close quarters, judging from the
positions of the dead and the accounts of the wounded.
Night closed the affair and both parties fell back; our
troops for nearly two miles, the enemy not so far. The
next morning a countryman came into the city and said
that the wounded were still uncared for and were cry-
ing for help. Taking a surgeon, an ambulance, and
one or two hospital stewards, I started for the battle-
field. Upon reaching our line, about two miles from
the scene of the fight of the day before, I was told that
the enemy was somewhere before me, but no one
seemed to know where. Taking, by permission, a
dozen of Bearing's Cavalry, which had been brought
up, I proceeded, showing them out to the right, wl-Lere
I thought the enemy would be found, if in the vicinity.
I went nearly two miles, when 1 came to a large open

The War 213

field, where I could see the white tlags (handkerchiefs
on ramrods), and could hear the calls of the wounded.
Dismissing my escort, believing that on my mission I
would be safer without them, I followed the turnpike
until I came to where the railroad crossed it, and found
myself on the extreme right of their line, and left of
ours, where the battle had evidently been the hottest.
Here the dead and the wounded of both parties lay not
an hundred yards apart. But the wounded were Fed-
erals exclusively, our wounded having been taken away
I suppose by our surgeons. Moreover, I discovered
that we were technically within the Federal line, as
they, or their pickets, could be seen under cover of
wood, not a mile distant. My first thought was to
leave and get out of sight with my Httle party, but the
wounded begged me not to leave them to die without
an effort to save them. I referred them to their own
surgeons, who had left them, but who were not far ofif,
and would probably return for them. "No," they said,
"they left us last night, and they are afraid of being
killed or captured if they return." "Well," I answered,
"who is to insure that we shall not be killed or captur-
ed? Your men are in sight." However, they begged
so earnestly that we could not resist their importu-
nities, so we got them together under the shade of a
tree, and gave them water and brandy, preparatory to
getting them away.

Though only the 7th or 8th of May, it was one of the
hottest days I ever felt, and I was lying down in the
shade, almost overcome with heat, after the work, when
I heard a tipping in a dense little piece of wood near
me, and the next minute a Confederate officer and a
file of men stepped out of the bushes, and the latter
brought their pieces up as if to fire on me. "Don't
fire," I shouted. "Who are you?" asked the officer.
"A Confederate surgeon," I replied, "trying to help

214 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

these poor wounded men." "You look d — d little like
it," he returned, and his doubts were reasonable. I
wore only a linen short coat and a pair of blue trous-
ers, with gold braid, and was amongst men in full
Yankee uniform. I then gave him my name and rank,
and told him his. (I knew him.) He was a Captain
Woolrich, of that county, belonging to the Thirtv-
second Virginia, I think, and knowing the locality well
was scouting for Beauregard trying to find the enemy.
I said to him, "You have found the enemy now. They
are in that body of pines in the distance, and I beg
that you will take your men back under cover, or you
may draw their fire on us. He had discovered all that
he wished, and, saluting, left me. The men were all
badly wounded, and one or two died before we could
get them away. On the extreme right of the Federal
line a gun had been disabled by our fire, but must have
been gallantly defended before it was abandoned, as the
dead lay, some piled on, others about it. On pulling
ofif the bodies to see if any were still alive, some papers
dropped from the pocket of a young lieutenant,
amongst which was a letter addressed to a lady in Bre-
men, and written in the German language. On read-
ing it, I found it was to his betrothed. In it he informed
her that his term of service had expired, and that he
should leave for New York City, giving her the street
and the number where she should meet him on her
arrival in this country. Poor fellow ! This was his last
fight, into which he went, no doubt, voluntarily, as he
was about to leave the Army. I made an attempt to
send this letter through the lines, but I do not know
whether it reached its destination and carried the sad
news which I indorsed on it, or whether she read the
fate of her love amongst the cold items of the "dead"
at the battle of Walthall's Station. One of the wound-
ed that we picked up and brought off was a tall, red-

The War 215

headed captain from Connecticut, his arm shot off at
the shoulder joint. Though desperately wounded, he
had not lost his pluck, and the first question was,
"What fool fought that artillery of yours yesterday?"
On questioning him as to what he meant, he replied
that "he knew no more about his business than a school
boy. He fought his guns right up to our lines."
"Well," I said, "he seemed to have done some execu-
tion." "Yes." he replied, "and we did some execu-
tion also." This was but too evident.

The yellow, butternut clothes and stitched-down
shoes of Hankin's artillerists as their dead lay almost
amongst their enemies, bore sad and striking contrast
to the gaily-decked dead of the enemy. The Federal
troops were of regiments which had been brought
around from Florida, and their uniforms were bright
and new. One man, especially, I noted amongst the
dead in a position which I did not believe any dead man
could maintain, and I thought he was alive until I went
to him. He was sitting up, leaning his back against a
tuffet of stiff bamboos, with his gun in his grasp as if
about to discharge it. He had been shot through the
breast, and his tin cup attached to his belt had caught
his blood. His dress was not that of a private soldier,
nor of an officer, but it was simply elegant, and his fine
shirt was an article to be coveted by a poor Confeder-
ate. Some one had taken his shoes, which were the
only articles about his person that had been disturbed.

Our Connecticut captain maintained his bravado to
the last. When, on getting him to the city, some ladies
offered him wine and such delicacies as they had, as
they often did to the wounded when brought in, ir-
respective of the color of the jacket, he scornfully re-
plied, "No, keep your good things for your Rebel
brethren, they will need all they can get before they
get through with this scrap." He died that night.

2i6 Scventy-iive Years in Old Virginia

Maj. Hankins, a modest and gallant gentleman, who
commanded the artillery that did such execution at
close quarters, lived through the war to be killed soon
after its close in a personal rencontre in Surry county.

I never knew who commanded the infantry in that
fight. They were greatly outnumbered by Butler's
forces, but they drove these back upon their base on
James River, and joining Beauregard at Chester and
Centralia, participated a short time afterwards in the
heavy fighting near Drewry's Bluff, by which Beaure-
gard "bottled up Butler" at Bermuda.

Another occasion on which the enemy in overwhelm-
ing force failed to get to Petersburg was on the 9th of
June following the preceding attempt. This day has
been one of sacred memory since, and annually, in com-
memoration thereof, the people of Petersburg lay aside
their cares, their duties, and their pleasures, and as-
semble at the old Blandford Cemetery to deck with
flowers the graves of their martyred dead, and to give
thanks to God for the special deliverance vouchsafed
unto the city at that time, and continued in so many
miraculous ways during the interim of war which for
eleven long months was waged to the very lintels of
their doors. It is a day made historic by noble deeds,
whose recital, handed down from father to son, stirs
the blood to proud and patriotic resolve. And well
may it be so ; and long may it be so !

Butler, in further futile attempts to capture Peters-
burg, had sent a brigade under General Kautz, from
City Point in a southeasterly direction, expecting them
to reach the city from the Jerusalem Plank Road.
News was brought that morning from our scouts that
a column of Federal troops was in motion and was
under orders to approach the city from the direction
indicated. The Court-House bell was rung about nine
o'clock in the morning, and couriers were dispatched

7' he War 217

Lo get together all the local militia, old men passed the
age, and boys too young to be enlisted in the regular
service, with any convalescents at the hospital well
enough to bear arms, and any other men willing to
volunteer, and to order them to repair at once to our
works near the Rives House on the Jerusalem Plank
Road, about a mile from the corporation line, and to
report to Col. F. H. Archer, who was in command of
a small force at that point. Hon. Anthony Keiley, now
one of the judges of the International Court in Alex-
andria, Egypt, at that time a member of the General
Assembly of Virginia, and exempt from military rule,
happened to be in the city, and volunteered in the
fight. He was captured, and whilst in prison he wrote
a most graphic account of the affair, "In Vinculis,"
which was published after his release. I reproduce it
in part, as follows :

I was sitting in my office, peacefully engaged, and endeavoring to
extract from the Richmond papers, just received, something like an
idea of the situation, when, as though our city were blest with a
patent fire telegraph, all the available bell metal in the corporation
broke into chorus with so vigorous a peal and clangor so resonant
as to suggest to the uninitiated a general conflagration. ♦ * * The
general understanding, if not order, was that this signal, theretofore
consecrated to the enunciation of fire, should thenceforth in Peters-
burg serve the purpose further of heralding the approach of another
devouring element— the Yankees. Thus it came to pass that in most
indecent haste I let fall my journals and went into the street, to
learn from the first excited passer-by that the enemy's cavalry, to
the number of twenty thousand, so ran the tale, were approaching
the city and were already within two miles of where my informant
stood. The usual discount of seventy-five per cent still left the tale
uncomfortable to a degree. "What forces have we on the Jerusa-
lem Plank Road [the road by which they were approaching], do
you know?" I questioned. "Not a d — n man [we had not had, I re-
mark parenthetically, a revival of religion in our town for some time,
and Confederate whiskey would make a nun swear] except Archer's
Battalion, and not a hundred and fifty of them," was the reply.
[Archer's Battalion consisted of old men past sixty and boys under
eighteen.]

I immediately turned my face in the direction of Archer's Bat-
talion, but a mile southeast from the cemetery, and on reaching there

2i8 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

found all in preparation. Reporting to the first captain I met he
made the obvious suggestion that I should get a musket, and I has-
tened to the ordnance officer to supply myself. This gentleman cour-
teously invited me to make an intelligent choice between three speci-
mens of smoothbore military architecture known in the army as "al-
tered percussions." One of these formidable arquebuses had a trig-
ger with so weak a spring that the lenderest cap ever turned out of
a laboratory would successfully resist its pressure ; the second was
so rusty that its ramrod shrank from sounding its oxidized depths;
while the third proved on examination to be so bent and wrenched
that you could not see daylight through it when the breech-pin was
unscrewed ! I now began to be overwhelmed with the apprehension
that I was destined to act exclusively as a lay figure in the drama
about to be put upon the boards, when a friend, commiserating my
perplexity, handed me a gun left in his tent by a comrade that morn-
ing who had gone to town on leave. Armed and equipped as the law
directs, I stepped forward to the breast-works.

We had not long to wait. A cloud of dust at our front told of the
hurried advance of cavalry, and the next instant the glitter of spur
and scabbard revealed to us a long line of horsemen rapidly deploying
under cover of wood that ran parallel to our line about half a mile
in front of us. Our venerable muskets were not worth a tinker's im-
precation at a longer range than a hundred yards, and we w-ere com-
pelled per force to watch the preparations for our capture or
slaughter. * * *

The enemy determined to feel us with a small portion of its com-
mand, and on came at a sweeping gallop a gallant company of
troopers. * * * We possessed our souls in patience till we could
see the chevrons on the arm of a non-commissioned officer who led
them (a brave fellow), and then there broke forth from such amiable
muskets as could be induced to go off a discharge that scattered the
cavaliers like chaflf, three riderless horses being all of the expedition
that entered our lines. Meanwhile the long line of foemen were
stretching around us, many fold more than we in numbers, and armed
with special rifles repeating sixteen times. And there we fought
them till we were so surrounded that the two men nearest to me were
shot in the back while facing the line of original approach ; till our
camp in the rear of the works was full of the foe; till the noblest
blood of our city stained the clay of the breast-works as they gave
out their lives with gun in hand and face forward on the spot where
their officers placed them. * * * Their faces rise before me now,
all gallant gentlemen and true, one of whnsc lives was well worth a
hecatomb of the bummers and bounty-jumpers before them. One by
one my comrades fell around me, Dr. Bellingham the last; and as I
turned at his request and stooped to change his position to one of
greater comfort, the enemy trooped over the earthwork behind me,
and the foremost one, presenting his loaded carbine, demanded my
surrender with an unrepeatable violence of language that suggested
bloodshed.

The War 219

All avenue of escape being cut off, I yielded with what grace I
could to my fate, captive to a hatchet-faced member of the First
District Cavalry, greatly enamored of this opportunity of going to
the rear.*

The old men and boys who made this defense, un-
paralleled in this or any other war, belonged to the best
citizens whom the city of Petersburg and its vicinage
could claim — men and boys who had behind them moth-
ers, wives, sisters, sweethearts, whose fate in case of
falling in the hands of the enemy was foreshadowed in
the cruel orders of Dahlgren's Raiders, f They had the
highest incitement to hold their positions, even unto
death, and nobly they filled the fatal requirement of
duty. They fought — one hundred and twenty-five,
badly armed, and untrained, and behind their frail de-
fense— one hundred and twenty-five against two thou-
sand three hundred of the enemy, until, as Mr. Keiley
says, "surrounded, men fighting the enemy before
them were shot in the back by the enemy behind them."
But with their blood they held the enemy at bay for
nearly two hours, until the impetuous Graham, himself
a Petersburg boy, who had been hurriedly sent for
from the forces in Chesterfield, dashed through the
streets of the city at full gallop, with his four guns that
he had carried away three years before, at the very be-
ginning of the war; and the gallant Bearing with his
intrepid troopers following just after him. They

*As a peculiar incident belonging to this affair, I will note that
Professor Staubly, one of the volunteer militia who fell in the fight,
was a particular friend of Colonel Dahlgren, of the Federal army,
who had lost his life a few days before in a raid which had for
its object the capture of Richmond, and who had upon his person
orders, in case he succeeded, to kill President Davis and the mem-
bers of his Cabinet, and to give the city over to sack and pillage.
Professor Staubly steadily refused to believe that his friend Dahlgren
could be guilty of so atrocious a design, and at the time that he fell
had an application filed with the Confederate authorities, asking per-
mission to find and return Dahlgren's body to his friends.

t See Appendix.

220 Scvcnty-Uve Years in Old Virginia

formed on Cemetery Hill, and, later on at Water
Works Hill, sent a few well-directed shells into the head
of the Federal column, and drove them ignominiously
back from the coveted prize of "beauty and booty"
which they thought they held in their dastardly hands.

The names of the men and boys who made this
memorable fight are written in imperishable record
in the archives of the city, and, better, in the hearts of
hundreds of the helpless ones who were rescued that
day from a calamity worse than death. After thirty-
eight years but few of that Httle band of men or officers
are left to recall the tragic scenes of that summer's day ;
but one, the undaunted leader, even then gray-haired
and a veteran of the Mexican War, still lives and moves
amongst us, honored, as he deserves to be, an example
of the Christian citizen without cant, and the Christian
soldier without fear, Col. F. H. Archer.*

When General Lee reached Petersburg the day after
General Smith, with his thirty thousand troops, had
failed to enter the almost defenseless city, and con-
fronted the Federal forces encircling it with their lines
of ditch and fosse and dirt, it is said to have been a
question mooted amongst those in authority whether
the Confederate forces should not attack Grant's army
with vigor at once and, forcing back his extreme right
near Hare's farm, thrust themselves between the re-
mainder of his army and their base at City Point, and
thus compel them to surrender. It was said that Beau-
regard urged this course upon Lee, telling him that his
army was flushed with continuous victory from the
Wilderness down to their present position ; that they
had rendered hors de combat within six weeks more
of the enemy in numbers than they counted in their

*Col. Archer has recently died and gone over to meet his com-
rades.

The War 221

own ranks; that the enemy was discouraged by con-
stant defeat, and demoraUzed by great losses in battle,
and would prove ready victims to turther disaster, and
in the meantime that his own army, in event ot a long
siege, would be daily diminished by the casualties ot
constant combat, by division, by desertion, etc. ; and
that though the enemy, inactive in the trenches, would
be subject under the circumstances to equal losses, yet
that he had the world to draw from, could always put
two men in the place of one lost, whilst our resources,
virtually exhausted as far as reinforcements were con-
cerned, would not permit us to keep our army even
to the present standard.

Other reports were that General Lee advised the sur-
render of Richmond and Petersburg, and a continu-
ance of the tactics begun at the Wilderness, viz: to
move upon Grant's left, fighting him every day when
opportunity favored, and thus subjecting him to daily
loss greater than we incurred, and leading him con-
stantly away from his base of supplies into an unknown,
inhospitable, and hostile country. It was said that Mr.
Davis opposed this plan on the ground of giving up
the seat of Government, and the loss of Richmond and
Petersburg, and the continued falUng back of the Con-
federate forces would give encouragement to the ene-
my and be followed by discouragement and demoral-
ization on the part of the Southern people. I do not
know how far these reports, current at the time, were
sustained by facts.

A few days after General Lee had reached Peters-
burg and established his lines and filled them with his
veterans, and confident of present safety had set up a
sense of such casual peace as often pervaded the air
t^there is no other description for it, when two great
armies are facing one another and taking respite of mu-
tual slaughter), I invited his medical staff and several

222 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

other general officers to breakfast at my quarters. After
waiting for an hour for my guests, General Lee's staflf
and some others not appearing, those present sat down
to the table ; but our party was soon disturbed, even
to dissolution, by a terrific cannonading on the left of
our lines, near the iron bridge on the City Point Road,
and in the vicinity of the old race track, followed by
musketry, continuous and heavy, indicating that a
battle of no mean pretensions was on. We had as-
saulted the enemy's works "with vigor," had failed to
carry them, and after some considerable loss our men
were withdrawn. Whether this attack was made in ac-
cordance with the advice said to have been given by
Beauregard, to "break the enemy's right and double
him up," or whether it was merely a feint, I never had
any definite means of determining by information got-
ten from those who alone knew. The attack was de-
termined on the night previous, I am sure, as General
Lee's medical officers, in apologizing for their failure
to be present at my breakfast, stated they received or-
ders the night before not to leave their quarters the
following morning.

No other sortie was made by the besieged, and
strangely enough, it would seem, no assault by the be-
siegers in their overwhelming numbers, until the 30th
of July following, when they sprung a mine under our
works at the Elliott Salient, now known as the Crater.
With this exception the fighting was done behind their
works, or in open field to their left, — always and per-
sistently to their left, — and though always in number
greatly superior to our own, and often repelled with
fearful loss, they would reinforce and reappear with a
pertinacity and courage worthy of a better cause, until
our thin lines were finally enveloped in their anaconda
folds, and the tragedy of Five Forks ended the scene
of the immortal defense of the beleagured city of Pe-

The War 223

tersburg. We have referred to the assault of the ene-
my on the 30th of July. It could hardly be called an
assault on our lines, as they had been destroyed by the
explosion of 8,000 pounds of powder introduced
through a subterranean gallery of 520 feet, extending
from the Federal works to our ow^n, and placed under
a salient occupied by Pegram's Battery, of this city, and
a part of the Eighteenth and Twenty-second South
Carolina Regiments. These troops were blown up, but
few left aHve, and in the place of the fort there was left
a crater 200 feet long, 60 feet wide, and 30 feet deep.
There were literally no works to assault for a space
of 150 to 200 yards, and no men to repel an assault at
this point, and the way was open to Cemetery Hill, a
few hundred yards distant, and to the doomed city
about the same distance from its crest. The explosion
occurred about four o'clock in the morning, and this
portion of the works was in possession of the enemy
until about nine o'clock, when they were retaken by
Mahone with three brigades — his own, and Wright's
of Georgia, and Saunders' of Alabama. That is, for
about four hours the Federals, with our works broken
for some two or three hundred yards, failed to advance
or take any advantage of their position. According to
the report on the "Conduct of the \Var," General Ord
estimates the troops that really got into the Confed-
erate works at ten or twelve thousand, and of this
number forty-three hundred were colored troops; be-
hind these were massed, according to McCabe, 65,000,
not in immediate vicinity, of course, but accessible if
necessity should arise for re-inforcements.

It is not to be wondered at that a very sharp cor-
respondence arose during that time between General
Meade, whose quarters were at the house occupied
now by Mrs. Brown, about one and a half miles from
the Crater, and General Burnside, who had immediate

224 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

charge of the attack, and that the failure to capture
Petersburg on that occasion was called by their his-
torian, Swinton, the "fiasco of the war."

Now let us estimate the number of Confederate
troops to whom was assigned the duty of recapturing
and reestabHshing our lines. When the explosion oc-
curred at four o'clock in the morning and the enemy
rushed into our broken works, information was sent
at once to General Lee, whose quarters were then at
the Turnbull house, about a mile to the west of Peters-
burg, and near the present Insane Asylum. He direct-
ed Colonel Venable, of his staff (afterwards Professor
of Mathematics at the University of Virginia) to ride
rapidly to General Mahone's position, which was on our
lines, near the Wilcox house, about a mile to the left of
Elliott's Salient, and to order him to send two of his
brigades, the Virginia, under Colonel Weisiger, and
the Georgia Brigade, under General Wright, to report
to General Bushrod Johnson, whose quarters were in
the old Mingea house on the hill just to the northeast
of the cemetery, and who had charge of our lines at
the point where the explosion occurred and where they
were in the possession of the enemy.

General Mahone, who always exercised the most
jealous care of his brigade, said to Colonel Venable that
he disliked to send his brigade, and with approval of
General Lee he would lead it himself. He then ordered
his men of the two brigades to fall back out of the
works, one at a time, so as not to attract the attention
of the enemy to the working of our lines at that point,
and as soon as he had gotten them out of sight of the
enemy, formed them into line, and sent them out along
the continuous ravine leading to the east of the Camer-
on house, and on to near the present location of the
water works, from which there was a covered way,
partly natural and partly ditched, and with protecting

The War 225

traverses leading to our works a few hundred yards
southeast of the cemetery, and used for the carrying of
rations, ammunition, etc., to the troops in the works.
He rode forward himself and reported to General John-
son, where it seems he found General Lee, who cor-
dially approved of his leading his brigade, and asked to
be shown the way to the captured salient. General
Johnson sent a young lieutenant, Harris, with him,
and when they reached the point where the covered
way crossed the Jerusalem Plank Road, a few yards
south of the termination of the present electric road,
he found his brigade coming up. Leading them up
to within some two hundred yards of the covered way
and stepping out, he said, describing it afterwards:
"I found myself in full view of the portion of the salient
which had been blown up, and of that part of the works
to the north of the salient, and saw that they were
crammed with Federal soldiers and thickly studded
with Federal flags. A moment's survey of the situation
impressed me with the belief, so crowded were the ene-
my and his flags, — eleven flags in less than one hun-
dred yards, — that he was greatly disordered, but in
large force. I at once sent back for the Alabama
brigade to be brought up by the way in which the two
brigades had come." In the meantime it was evident
that no time could be lost, and he directed Captain
Girardey, of his staff, to form the brigade in Hne of
battle in a gulch or depression of ground, parallel with
our works or nearly so, about two hundred yards dis-
tant from the enemy — the Virginians on the left and
the Georgians on the right. Hardly had they gotten
into position when Girardley called to Mahone, "Gen-
eral, they are coming" (the enemy showing some in-
tention of charging), and Mahone called back, "Tell
Weisiger to forward!" And then, says Mahone, "with
the steadiness and resolution of regulars on dress pa-
is

226 S event y-ftre Years in Old Virginia

rade, they moved forward to meet the enemy." On
their arrival at the works there was a hand-to-hand
fight with bayonet and butt of musket, and with hor-
rors that no one can readily appreciate who was not
engaged in the conflict, until the works to the north or
left of the traverse were taken, the enemy still holding
the pit, which proved to them a veritable trap of death,
and holding in addition some fifty feet to the right of
the pit. The Virginia brigade had done its w^ork, the
Georgia had failed : nor did it take the enemy's lines
in its front until the coming of the Alabama brigade,
with Colonel Saunders. About one o'clock P. M.
our lines were re-established, the enemy still holding
the pit, from which he could not emerge without al-
most certain death. This pit was crowded with Fed-
eral troops who, failing to advance when our works
were broken, had cowered under the fire of shell and
shrapnel poured in from our batteries to the north and
to the south of the Crater, and sought safety behind
the boulders and walls of that inmiense opening in the
earth.

McCabe, adjutant of Pegram's Battalion of Artil-
lery, an eye witness of and participant in this fight,
says (address before the Association of the Army of
Northern Virginia) : ''And now the scene within the
horrible pit was such as might l)e fitly portrayed by
the pencil of Dante after he had trod 'nine-circled
Hell.' From the great mortars to the right and left,
huge missiles, describing graceful curves, fell at regu-
lar intervals with dreadful accuracy and burst amongst
the helpless masses huddled together ; and every ex-
plosion was followed by piteous cries, and oftentimes
the very air seemed darkened by flying human limbs.
Haskell, too, had moved up his eprouvette mortars
among the men of the Si.xteenth Virginia, so close, in-
deed, that his powder charge was l)ut 'an ounce and a

The War 2ay

half, and without intermission the storm of fire beat
upon the hapless men imprisoned within. Mahone's
men watched with great interest this easy method of
reaching troops behind cover, and then with imitative
ingenuity of soldiers, gleefully gathered up the count-
less muskets, with bayonets fixed, which had been
abandoned by the enemy, and propelled them with
such nice skill that they came down upon Ledlie's men
[in the pit] like the rain of the Norman arrows at
Hastings. And this horrid butchery continued until
our lines were retaken in their continuity about one
o'clock P. M., when a white handkerchief was display-
ed from the end of a ramrod or bayonet, and the re-
sponse being to 'come in,' a great number of prisoners
came pouring over the crest, which, including a few
that had been captured before, footed up i,ioi." The
Federal accounts of this affair of the charge upon their
works, and of the slaughter which ensued, and of the
liorrors of the pit into which they were driven shows
that McCabe did not exaggerate in his statements.

Capt. Freeman Bowley, of San Francisco, in an ad-
dress before the California command of the Loyal Le-
gion of the United States November 8th, 1889, said:
"When driven back, with a dozen of my company, I
went down the traverse to the Crater. We were the
last to reach it, and the Johnnies were not twenty yards
behind us. A full line around the crest of the Crater
were loading and firing as fast as they could, and the
men were dropping thick and fast, most of them shot
through the head. Every man that was shot rolled
down the steep sides to the bottom, and in places were
piled up four or five deep. The cries of the wounded
pressed down under the dead were piteous in the ex-
treme. An enfilading fire was coming through the
traverse down which we had retreated. General Bart-
lett (who had been disabled by the crushing of his

228 S event y-Uve Years in Old Virginia

wooden leg) ordered the colored troops to build breast-
works across it. They commenced the work of throw-
ing up lumps of clay, but it was slow work, and some
one called out, 'put in the dead men,' and acting on
this suggestion, a large number of dead — white and
black. Union and Rebel — were piled into the trench.
* * * The artillery on Cemetery Hill kept up a
constant fire of grape, and kept the dust flying about
us. A mortar battery also opened on us, and after a
few shots they got our range and the shells fell directly
among us. Many of them did not explode, but a few
burst directly over us and cut the men down most
cruelly. Many of our troops now attempted to leave,
but nearly every man who attempted it fell back rid-
dled with bullets. The white troops now were ex-
hausted and discouraged. Leaving the line, they sat
down, facing inwards, and neither threats nor entreat-
ies could get them up again. * * * From this
time the fire was kept up mainly by the negro troops,
and of^cers handling muskets. A few Indians* of the
First Michigan Sharpshooters did splendid work.
Some of them were mortally wounded, and drawing
their blouses over their faces chanted their death song,
and died, four of them in a group. Of the men of my
company who rallied with me, all but one, a sergeant,
lay dead or dying. * * * The rebels planted their
battle flags on the edge of the Crater-front, and on
both sides, not six feet from our men, muskets, with
bayonets, were pitched back and forth in harpoon
style."

Any one wishing to read an enlarged and accurate
account of this fearful hand-to-hand conflict will find
it, under contribution from many soldiers and officers,

*Some of these poor fellows fell into my hands after the fight was
over— J. H. C.

The War 229

Union and Confederate, in "War Talks," published by
Geo. S. Bernard, Attorney, Petersburg, Virginia, him-
self one of the 800 of the Virginia brigade which
charged and carried by the bayonet and butt of musket
works manned by tenfold their number.

In stating that Wrights' Brigade of Georgia failed
to carry the post of the enemy's lines in their front, it
is but just to add that Colonel Hall, who commanded
the brigade, in a letter to the Petersburg Express of
August 1st, 1864, stated that only a regiment and a
half of his brigade had emerged from the covered way
when Mahone's men charged, and that by order of
Capt. Girardey they charged on the right of Mahone's
Brigade ; and one of these regiments planted its col-
ors on the edge of the Crater, and remained there until
ordered away. This is confirmed by Lieut. Laighton,
of Richmond, who commanded the sharpshooters from
the Twelfth Virginia. He says that he distinctly re-
members that "a small number of Wright's Brigade
charged along with the Virginia brigade, immediately
on the right of the battalion of sharpshooters." The
casualties of two hundred and thirty-one reported in
the Georgia brigade is sufHcient evidence that they
somewhere met a very murderous fire.

The regiments of Elliott's Brigade, on the north of
the Crater, which had escaped the explosion — espec-
ially the Seventeenth South Carolina — made a gallant
fight in restraining the advance of the enemy, after
they had taken our works, and suffered severely. So
did Ransom's and Clingman's North Carolinians make
a brave stand, as the North Carolinians always did, and
suffered severely, and with them several regiments of
Wise's Brigade.

To Mahone's Brigade, however, was given the honor
of the day, and he was rewarded by the thanks of Gen-
eral Lee, and received the stars of a major general.

230 Scvcnty-iii'C Years in Old Virginia

Weisiger was made brigadier general, a tardy but well
deserved promotion, and Capt. Girardey jumped from
a captain to brigadier. He was a gallant officer, and
was given charge of a Georgia brigade, but was killed
soon after this in the first fight into which he led his
men. The Alabamians, who charged about i P. M.,
and recaptured the works in their front, came in for
high commendation, but bought their laurels dearly.
The remnant of this brigade, about an hundred men,
possibly less, I succeeded in getting ofif at Appomattox
Court House after they had been mustered and count-
ed of¥ to be sent to a Federal prison. Of this I shall
speak later.

There is no doubt but that the Confederate artillery,
— Wright's Battery, Haskell's, Coit's, Lambkin's, Da-
vidson's, Otey's, Planner's, and others which I cannot
recall, — by the promptness with which they opened
fire on the enemy as they appeared at the rupture of
our works made by the explosion of the mine, and by
the skill and undaunted courage with which they
handled their guns, and the execution done, as their
fearful missiles of shell, and grape, and canister fell
amongst the Federals crowded into the small space
through which they were compelled to advance, did a
great deal to delay the enemy until the arrival of ]\Ia-
hone's infantry.

Capt. Flanner, in the "Historical Papers," May 1878,
says : "I claim that the battery commanded by me, and
composed entirely of North Carolinians, is entitled to
the credit of preventing the Federal army from enter-
ing Petersburg on the morning of the springing of the
mine." This battery was located at what was known
then as the Gee house, which stood on the Jerusalem
Plank Road near the intersection of the Baxter Road.
The Captain says : "Immediately on the advance of the
army we opened on them with shell and canister, when

The JJ'ar 231

they soon sought shelter in their trenches. In a few
minutes they again formed, and commenced advancing.
We again opened on tliem with our six guns. They
pressed steadily forward, when our guns were doubly
charged with canister, and a deadly fire poured into
their ranks. Their lines were then broken, and they
fled to their works, and there remained until the ar-
rival of Beauregard with the troops commanded by
Mahone. The iire of the enemy from one hundred
guns was concentrated upon my company for nearly
two hours, but amid this terrible rain of deadly mis-
siles the brave North Carolinians stood to their guns
and repulsed any advance of the enemy."

Captain Planner probably does not exaggerate the
weight of the metal against him, as in Captain Kirtis's
book, "Heavv Guns and Light," he says on authority
of Col. Henry L. Abbotts, who commanded the siege
artillery of the Army of the Potomac, that "eighty-one
Federal guns fired in this action 3,833 rounds of shot
and shell, missiles aggregating over 75 tons of metal."
We would not rob the gallant Captain or his brave
North Carolinians of one feather from their plume.
Where there were North Carolinians, there were brave
men always, and none who ever saw them in a fight, or
noted the return of their casualties after a fight, will
gainsay that ; but there were other brave men, of the
infantry and of the artillery, — men whom we have men-
tioned.— who rallied promptly after the demoralizing
explosion of the mine, and who shared with our Cap-
tain and his game crew that generous rain of metal so
abundantly poured out upon their devoted heads.

Major D. N. Walker,* of the Thirteenth Virginia
Battalion of Artillery, and who commanded the Otey
Battery from Richmond, whose guns were located to

♦Letter to Geo. S. Bernard— "War Talks."

232 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

the right of the Crater, said that the battle was an "ar-
tillery fight," and that "the enemy were practically
whipped before Mahone took part in the action." It
would be difficult to prove this fact to the infantry o£
Elliott's Brigade, of Ransom's Brigade, and of Wise's
Virginia Brigade, who to the north of the Crater re-
pelled the advance of the Federal troops, and who suf-
fered so severely. In the Fifty-ninth Virginia, of the
ten officers commanding the ten companies, nine were
killed on the field. These must have borne some
humble part in the repulse of the enemy.

It would be more difficult to convince the men of
Mahone's Brigade that the fight was practically ended,
who in that charge with a dash and courage "never
surpassed" and seldom equalled (according to Capt.
Walker himself, who witnessed it from his battery), and
who with bayonet and clubbed musket rushed upon ten
times their numbers of the enemy, and drove them
back upon their lines, and who suffered a loss which
was unaccountable if the fight was over. The fight was
not practically over until Mahone's second charge,
under Colonel Saunders, of the Alabama brigade, recap-
tured our works in their entirety. This was about
twelve or one o'clock P. M. The time of the first
charge was about 8.30 A. M., but has been reported as
being later. Colonel Venable, who took the orders
from General Lee to Mahone, says that the "charge
was made before nine o'clock A. M." This was cor-
roborated by any number of the participants in the
fight on both sides, but the Federal record, as found in
the testimony of General Meade before the "Commit-
tee on the Conduct of the W^ar." establishes the fact
beyond question.

General Meade says: "At nine A. M., July 30, I re-
ceived the following dispatch from General Burnside :
'General Meade — Many of the Ninth (9th) and Eigh-

The War 233

teenth (18th) Corps are retiring before tlie enemy. I
think now is the time to put in the Fifth Corps
promptly.' At 9.30 A. M. the following dispatch was
sent to Gen. Burnside : 'Headquarters Army of the
Potomac, July 30th, 1864, 9-30 A. M. To Major Gen-
eral Burnside, commanding Ninth Corps : The Major
General commanding has heard that the result of your
attack has been a repulse, and directs that if, in your
judgment, nothing further can be efifected, that you
withdraw to your own line, taking precaution to get
the men safely back.' At 9.45 A. M. General Burn-
side received a peremptory order to withdraw his
troops."

The troops were not withdrawn, however, before i
P. M. Then ensued a correspondence between Gen-
erals Meade and Burnside, by telegrams, of such spice
and vigor as to be almost as interesting as other inci-
dents of the fight. Indeed, it is not difficult to believe
that such a correspondence between two major gen-
erals of the Confederate Army would have led to a
transfer of the scene of action, so far as they were con-
cerned. After the war, when the participants in the
whole affair had given their versions, differing of
course in many things, as if it were possible under such
strain and excitement and peril for men in different
portions of the line to see things alike, jealousies and
bitterness arose, not to be wondered at, but regretted.
As far as the Confederate soldiers and the Confeder-
ate leaders were concerned, there was surely glory
enough to go around to all, and to satisfy the most ex-
acting.

An absurd question arose as to who gave the com-
mand to charge as the Virginia brigade arose to their
feet and rushed upon the enemy, — whether Weisiger,
Mahone, or Girardey, — as if the order of one man
could be heard along two hundred yards of line of

234 Sci'ciify-ihc Years in Old Virginia

battle, amid the bellowing of cannon and the pande-
monium of shrieking shell, and whistling shrapnel and
hissing minies. The men of that command were not
only men of the highest intelligence, but trained sol-
diers, and tried in half an hundred battles, and were
capable, nearly every man, of being a leader, and doubt-
less would have arisen without orders and charged, by
soldierly instinct, at the most opportune time for vic-
tory. Some of the men testified that they heard no
command to charge, but saw that the time had come.

A more absurd question arose as to whether Ma-
hone was really in command on that occasion, or pres-
ent at the charge. One w'ould think that such a state-
ment would not receive the credence of any man. Yet
I heard a general officer — a lieutenant general — say
ten years after the war that Gen. Mahone was not pres-
ent at the afTair of the Crater. This officer was not
present and of course knew nothing about it. The men
who were present speak with no uncertain voice. Gen-
eral Mahone was not there by orders. He was directed
to send his brigade to Gen. Bushrod Johnson, who had
immediate command on the part of the lines broken.
He volunteered to take them in himself. But what say
the men whose presence and whose gallantry none can
ever question? Major Jones, now president of a col-
lege in Mississippi, and who led the Twelfth Virginia,
says (letter under date of January, 1877, to General
Mahone) : "On getting my regiment in position, your
courier delivered me a message to report to you at the
right of the brigade. Walking in front of the brigade
and reaching you, I found all the other regimental
commandery before you when I arrived. * * *
Turning to the officers, you delivered a stirring ad-
dress to this efTect : 'The enemy have our works. The
line of men which we have here is the only barrier to
the enemy's occupying Petersburg. There is nothing

The War 235

to resist his advance. Upon lis devolves the duty of
driving him from his strong position in our front, and
reestabhshing our Hnes. We must carry his position
immediately by assaulting it. If we don't carry it by
the first attack we will renew the assault as long as a
man of us is left, or until the work is ours.' "

This statement of Major Jones has never been ques-
tioned, but in an editorial in the Richmond Common-
wealth, in June, 1880, prompted by a bitter corre-
spondence between General Mahone and General Weis-
iger, it was more than intimated that General Mahone
was not entitled to the credit of the success at the
Crater ; but that he "was in the covered way at a time
when he ought to have been somewhere else." Upon
the appearance of this editorial, some old members of
Mahone's Brigade, Capt. J. E. Tyler, of the Twelfth
Virginia, Lieut. J. E. Phillips, of the Twelfth Virginia,
Sergeant Leroy S. Edwards, of the Twelfth Virginia,
and Private Jos. A. Gentry, of the Sixth Virginia, whose
presence in the battle was never questioned, collected
a number of statements from a number of offtcers and
soldiers participants in the same aiTair, and published
them in the Richmond JVhig, in August, 1880. Amongst
these statements, one from Capt. W. A. S. Taylor,
Adjutant of the Sixty-first Virginia, says: "Whilst
waiting for the command 'guides post' I saw Girardey
wave his hand above his head and shout 'charge.' I
presumed the command came from General Mahone,
and with the command I started for the works [of the
enemy]. * * * Arriving at the works, the com-
mand delivered its fire, and finished with the bayonet.
In a few minutes thereafter General Mahone was at
that portion of the works occupied by the Sixty-first
Virginia, and I heard him say, 'The work is not civ9s:,
we must retake the balance of the line.' "

2^6 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Colonel Rogers, who commanded the Sixth Vir-
ginia Regiment, after describing the charge and the
fearfull loss in his command, says, "Almost upon the in-
stant of reaching the entrenchment, Gen. Weisiger
called to me that he was wounded, he thought mor-
tally, and, turning over the command to me, retired
with assistance from the field. The brigade was in great
confusion ; our loss in the charge had been very heavy,
the work of death was rife in the trenches, and our men
were suffering from an enfilade fire. * * * Then
I met General Mahone in the trenches, and received
from him timely instructions, and orders to hold the
position at any hazard, and under any loss, until he
could bring another brigade to our relief."

Mr. Thos. H. Cross, of the Sixteenth Virginia Regi-
ment, says : "I saw General Mahone just before we
started on the charge, and saw him again in the breast-
works."

Mr. W. W. Caldwell, of the battalion of sharp-
shooters of the Twelfth Virginia Regiment, says in a
statement on the same day, June 30, 1880: "i had not
lost sight of him (Mahone) five minutes, when the ene-
my commenced firing outside the captured portion of
our front. * * * In the movement to the trenches
which we captured I did not see Mahone, but in less
than five minutes after we were in the works, he was
in our midst, encouraging our men in the thickest ot
the fire."

I have selected these from a number of statements
to the same effect from men who testified of their per-
sonal knowledge. I have personally a melancholy re-
minder of Mahone's presence in the trenches in a note
which he sent to me in the rear, with the body of a
nephew of mine, R. E. Butts, a young lawyer of the
Petersburg bar. and a member of Co. E, Twelfth Vir-
ginia Regiment. He stated in words of sorrow that

The War 237

"my gallant nephew" had just been killed at his side.
It was at the time probably referred to by Colonel
Rogers of the Sixth Virginia, immediately after the
capture of the works, when Mahone appeared amongst
them, placing men in position, especially the sharp-
shooters, to pick off the Federals who were annoying
our troops with a fatal fire.

Mahone replies to the incident in a report published
in "War Talks of Confederate Veterans." He says:
"The Virginia brigade having made its charge, I put
the Georgia brigade in position to meet any possible
reverse to which the Virginia brigade might be sub-
jected, then hurried across the field to the works which
the Virginia brigade then occupied, and after making a
thorough examination of the situation, so disposed the
same as to increase the ability of the brigade to hold
the works retaken, at the same time causing the sharp-
shooters to be so posted as to make death the penalty
of the enemy attempting to escape and get back to
their lines. It was here that I remember young Butts
[my nephew] being killed in my immediate presence.
He had just cautioned me, whilst I was looking through
an opening in the works, not to expose myself. I told
him I would look after that, and almost immediately
afterwards he received a bullet in his forehead which
killed him instantly, and he fell on the floor of the
trench at my feet." This incident was told me also by
David Meade Bernard, also a lawyer, and after the
war judge of the Hustings Court of Petersburg. He
said that he and Butts were engaged at the request of
General Mahone in, picking off the men who were con-
tinually attempting to get back from the Crater into
their own lines, and that Butts remarked just as he
was shot, "I got that one," the man jumping up into
the air and rolling down the hill as he was struck.

238 Scz'oity-frre y^cars in Old Virginia

Mr. George S. Bernard (in his ''War Talks"), a brave
soldier of the Twelfth Virginia, a participant in the
immortal charge of the Virginia brigade, an honest
and potent collector of facts, and who noted in his
diary some of the incidents of the fight, even before the
fight was ended, says : "When the Virginia brigade
made its charge, General Mahone of course remained
in his position in the ravine along which the Georgia
brigade was filing to take its position at the right of the
Virginians. To have charged with the Virginia bri-
gade, as was the duty of its commander. General, then
Colonel Weisiger, would have been evident that he
had lost his head, and with the Georgia brigade mov-
ing along under his eye and needing his presence to
put it in position, would have been criminal indiscre-
tion. The Virginia brigade having made its charge,
and the Georgia brigade having filed into position
from which it was intended that it should charge, Gen-
eral Mahone hurried across the slope over which the
Virginia brigade had just charged to the breastworks,
and was in the breastworks a few minutes after the
Virginians had gotten into them, encouraging the men,
posting sharpshooters, etc."

With facts like these, which cannot be disputed, sup-
ported as they are by so much evidence, the allegation
that Mahone on this occasion failed to do all in the way
of personal presence at the scene of conflict, and post
of danger, that should or would have been done by the
bravest of division commanders under like circum-
stances, is utterly untenable, and should be abandoned
as false and untenable.

I have collected this testimony in reference to Ma-
hone from sources so abundant that I scarcely knew
how to select it, and from men, who, at his right hand
and under his eye, for four years were witnesses of
his courage and skill and devotion as a soldier, because

The War 239

even now, when the bitterness of partisanship is pass-
ing away, there are still some persons disposed to deny
him his well-earned honors.

At the time this evidence was gathered together the
unfortunate controversy which arose between Mahone
and Weisi ger after the war in reference to the affair
at the Crater had been over for years, and was deeply
regretted by the friends of both, and by none more
than by the men who had followed them both in four
years of unparalleled hardships and unprecedented
peril, and who were witnesses of the undaunted cour-
age with which they both met difficulties apparently
insuperable, and overcame odds that threatened the ex-
tinction of their command. Neither of them were men
of personal magnetism, and both were strict and un-
compromising disciplinarians, and the hold they had
upon their men was born of the consciousness that
they would be handled with skill, that they would be
cared for in disaster, and that they would be required
to incur no dangers which their officers were not will-
ing to meet.

After the affair at the Crater, at which the Federal
loss, according to their own returns, was some five
thousand killed, wounded, and missing, no further as-
saults were made immediately upon our works. The
siege continued, with the daily cannonading of our
lines and of the city, and the daily story of suffering
and wounds ^nd death, and the stretching out of the
Federal lines to their right, fortifying them, not only
in our front, but in their rear, lest Mahone, who had
become their terror, should flank them, as he had done
more than once to their great loss. The city was
shelled generally at certain hours of the day or night,
and those who remained in their homes, and some who
had returned to their homes, driven back by the dis-
comforts of refugeeing, would go into their bomb-

240 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

proofs, and \Yait until the firing ceased before coming
out again.

Though the city at some locaHties was ahuost
knocked to pieces, yet there were few casualties
amongst the citizens, or amongst the soldiers who were
detained in the city on duty. The wisdom of keeping
two hospitals open was soon demonstrated by the fact
that they were kept filled by the badly wounded and
the sick who could not be made comfortable in the
field hospitals adjacent to the city, and by the addi-
tional fact that no casualties occurred in any of them.
Two nurses were killed, but not whilst they were on
duty at the hospitals, and no medical officer was hurt
with the exception of myself, and 1 was not near a hos-
pital at the time. My ambulance men used to say that
the Yankees always knew where my quarters were. It
is certain that they shelled me out of them more than
once — once when I was located in the building now
known as the High School, and which T had just vacated
bn orders from headquarters informing me that "the
enemy had gotten my range," I did not vacate too
soon, as the chair on which I was sitting was knocked
to pieces by a shell which came through the Iron Front
on Sycamore Street a very few minutes after I left. My
quarters after that were in the small brick house on
South Street, adjoining the South-side Box Factory,
in the yard of Collier's mill. But I slept at night at the
house on Farley and Hinton Street now owned and
occupied by Mayor Pleasants, where I had some fur-
niture stored, and which was often the comfortable re-
sort of officers coming in from the lines. Hinton
Street had not then been laid ofif, but there was a wide
open valley extending from Friend Street west to
South Street, and the shells intended for Tabb Street
Church steeple and the Post Ofiice ploughed that val-
ley before becoming exhausted, and made the locality

The War 241

very unsafe. Of course they shrieked and pounded
above and around the house in a most unpleasant way,
and finally drove every one away from their firesides,
as desirable as they were, except myself and my valet
Romulus.

On the night of the 30th of August, after the affair
of the Crater, and on the day on which General Hamp-
ton had gotten into Grant's rear and driven into our
lines some 3,000 cattle, depriving the Federal army
of their beef for some time, the officers, naturally very
indignant, and unable in any other way to vent their
spleen, opened on the city, apparently with every gun,
and prolonged their cannonade far into the night.
About ten o'clock I was lying down on a lounge and
watching the shells as they fiev*^ past the windows,
those at least which had fuses lit, and listening to the
music of the others. The situation became more sub-
lime, as far as the terrible is an element of the sublime,
and I said to Romulus, my servant, who was lying on
his blanket near me, ''Boy, we will run Providence one
more night, but to-morrow we will change our base
again," when suddenly two planets of the first magni-
tude seemed to come together right in my face, and
to break into a million stars of smaller magnitude. I
felt myself whirling over in the midst of plaster, laths,
glass, broken timber, and the dust of debris indescrib-
able. Then followed Cimmerian darkness, and I be-
came conscious of a stinging pain in my left shoulder
and left foot, and of an ominous trickling down my
back — on the whole a sense of being generally used up.
My first sensible thought was, "I am not killed, it hurts
too badly." As soon as I could get the dirt out of my
mouth I called to Romulus to know if he was hurt.
"Not touched, sir," he answered. "Well, I am," I re-
plied, "come and get me down under the lee of the
wall in the basement." "Better lay still, Marster," he
1<>

242 Sczrii(y-/h'e Years in Old Virginia

said ; "shell never come in the same hole twice." That
seemed a reasonable calculation of chance, but I pre-
ferred not to take it, and directed him to drag me
down to the basement, out of the dirt. After getting
me into a safer place, and striking a light, he saw some
blood on my shirt, and became demoralized and wanted
to go for a surgeon at once. I told him no, that I was
but a little hurt, and that if he attempted to go for a
surgeon through that fire he would be killed himself, or
the surgeon would be killed before he could get to
me. He made me as comfortable as he could and I
soon fell asleep.

On awakening the next morning my faithful valet
was still watching over me. Finding my wounds very
slight, I simply reported unable for duty and asked for
an officer to be assigned to my place temporarily. How-
ever, it gave me a short furlough, and I was surprised
to receive a note from the War Department a few days
afterwards, thanking me for my services, and noting
me "for courage, steadiness under fire, and devotion
to duty." This was a salvo for the slap I got from Gen-
eral Lee for not removing the wounded from under fire
with more diligence when he first came to the city, but
it was a compliment I did not deserve. I never went
under fire when I could honorably avoid it, and I al-
ways retired " as soon as a patriotic sense of duty per-
mitted." I never loved danger for danger's sake, and
never put myself in the way of it, either for amusement
or for curiosity. Some surgeons occasionally indulged
in such diversion in the early years of the war, but they
soon became wiser as their experience enlarged; and
though no men whom I met in the four bloody years
(if our strife more faithfully and more courageously
stood to their places under the call of duty, yet they
learned not to court unnecessary exposure to danger.
Besides, though many a medical oflicer paid the penalty

The War 243

of a limb or of his life for his constancy and courage,
not often was one gazetted or promoted therefor.
Without the animus of the fight, or the opportunity of
retaliation which the armed soldier had, yet quietly,
bravely, the doctor knelt in the field, by friend and foe
alike, and sought to save, without thought of self, the
mutilated and the stricken. It was not for him to
cheer, with the shout of the victor — his office was only
to hear and to help the fallen and the dying, enemy or
comrade.

In the first fight before Richmond, General Lee, not-
ing, I suppose, the disposition of some of the non-com-
batant staff, surgeons, quartermasters, etc., to go to
the front at a fight, commented on the fact and re-
minded them in an order that their place was in the
rear. It was a compliment as delicate as it was de-
served. The veteran soldiers had a belief, almost
amounting to a superstition, that no man could change
place with another in the presence of the enemy with-
out incurring especial danger. Mr. Geo. S. Bernard re-
fers to this fact in his "War Talks," and says that in
the line of battle, just before the charge at the Crater,
young Butts, who was killed, occupied his (Bernard's)
position, and that they exchanged places just before
Butts was killed. At the bloody affair at Crampton's
Gap, Harrison, of the Twelfth Virginia, whose posi-
tion in the line of battle brought him behind a stone
post, where he was comparatively safe, with an unself-
ish courage, rarely equalled, vacated it, and gave it to
the next soldier in line, who, not a veteran yet, showed
some evidence of wavering. Before the fight was over
this poor fellow was killed behind the stone post, and
Harrison escaped without a scratch.

During the siege of Petersburg I sent on one occa-
sion for a detail of men to guard some hospital storeu
in transition to a safer place, and two soldiers of a

244 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

Georgia regiment were sent me. I directed them
where to go. It was by chance a dangerous service,
and to these poor fellows an unusual one, which in the
soldier's vocabulary generally meant a dangerous ser-
vice, so one of them hesitated a Httle and asked to be
permitted to get some chewing tobacco from a com-
missary near at hand. I said to him, "Go on! In
twenty minutes you will probably have no mouth to
put your tobacco in." It was not spoken in unkind-
ness, but it was an idle speech which cost me no little
self-reproach when he was brought back in perhaps
less than that time, mortally wounded — a good part of
his face carried away by a shell, according to my un-
happy prediction. But tragic incidents were so com-
mon, and so crowded themselves upon us during the
siege, that they often ceased to impress us as they
should.

During the winter of i864-'65, amidst the sorrow
and the sufTering, which can hardly be exaggerated,
gaiety amongst the young people was rife. There
were parties, starvation parties, as they were called, on
account of the absence of refreshments impossible to
be obtained ; ball followed ball, and the soldier met and
danced with his lady love at night, and on the morrow
danced the dance of death in the deadly trench out on
the line, and the comrade who reported his fate took
his place the following night in the festive hall, and
often met the same fate the following day. The belles
wept the fallen beaux, but comforted themselves with
the recruits who hurried to "close up ranks," to the
music of some regimental band, at the dance.

During the latter part of the siege a young friend
of mine, a lieutenant-colonel of artillery, came by my
quarters one Sunday morning and begged me to go
out with him to his battery on the lines and see some
h\r\ ; saving that the Yankees were going to have dress

The War 24$

parade, as they usually did on Sunday, and that he was
going to train one of his rifle pieces on them and "see
them scatter." I reminded him that training rifle
pieces was a game that both sides played at often, and
that a rifle piece might possibly be trained on us.
"Oh!" he said "no danger, not half as much as here
where you are, and where you have to go. Besides,
you have had several narrow escapes where you are,
and been wounded once, and a man is rarely struck
behind my works." I repHed to him that if I were
killed anywhere that my daily duties called me, it would
be all right, that it would be the time and place for
me to die ; but that if I were killed out in the lines with
him some one would say "he had no business there,
it was just what might have been expected." In a few
hours the body of my poor friend was brought back,
a rifle shell having carried away a good part of his head.
To complete my story, I must add that he was to have
been married soon, and that his intended, a beautiful
young belle of the city, wept him for a short time,
and then consoled herself with a gallant colonel of in-
fantry. He in turn was wounded, and in the head, but
he survived his hurt, and came back from Appomattox,
and claimed his bride. They both are living still, in
a distant city, and when I saw them within a year past,
time had dealt so lightly with them that he was still
as handsome as when he wore the "buttons and the
gray," and she had simply exchanged the beauty of the
ball-room for the maturer charms of matron and
mother.

To this day many stirring incidents of that memor-
able winter of i864-'65 come trooping through my
brain — some pathetic, and some of grimmest humor,
as memory and the strange power of association calls
up one and another.

246 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

"Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise ;
Each takes its image as the other flies."

And then as I sometimes sit in reverie, communing
with the past, there comes before me, as if I saw it all
only y.esterday, an army of heroic figures.

Lee, the peerless, passing along Washington Street
on "Traveler" toward some officer's quarters, near the
hues in Blandford, riding alone, without courier or
stafT, as was his wont; of mien so dignified that no
man could presume on familiarity, and yet so gracious
that a child might approach him.

A. P. Hill, the preux chevalier, riding with easy
grace, alert, as if looking for the enemy, and facing
generally to the right, seeking probably to inspect his
lines where the weak point lay, and where finally he
met his end charging alone upon the Yankee pickets
and demanding their surrender. A. P. Hill, the in-
trepid leader for four years of the Light Division of
the Army of Northern Virginia, and the only man upon
whom both Lee and Jackson called as they fought their
battles over in their dying delirium, "Tell A. P. Hill
to prepare for action."

And Jeb Stuart, the dauntless trooper, — of whom a
Federal general said, "that he was the greatest cavalry
oftlcer ever foaled in America," — dashing along with
the careless abandon of a school boy, a smile on his
face, but the light of battle in his eye, ready for frolic
or fight, and shouting to the foot-sore infantry, "If you
want to have a good time, join the cavalry."

And Beale, — sturdy, bronzed and grave, at the head
of his steady Ninth Virginia troopers, passing my quar-
ters,— ordered to-day to the extreme left, and to-mor-
row to the extreme right, as dangers seemed to
threaten our flank, separated by twenty miles, and al-
ways exposed to especial danger.

The War 247

And the Lees. Rooney — quiet, conservative, cour-
ageous, at the head of his trusty horsemen; whom I
once heard say, when advised to make a certain move-
ment, with the assurance that it would give him promo-
tion, though he would gain nothing else and would
probably lose heavily : "I would not have the little
fmger of one of my men unnecessarily hurt for all the
glory that could come to me,"

And the other Lee — Fitz Lee, the "nephew of his
uncle," as his poHtical enemies after the war dubbed
him, but the dashing cavaHer, the hero of a hundred
fights, and the fortunate survivor of all ; the man whom
his State elevated to honor after the war, and whom
his former enemies received with enthusiastic applause,
and whom his reunited country rewarded with place
and position in acknowledgment of his worth and tal-
ents— but the man whom a political ring of the New
Virginia took down from his pedestal and placed one
of their own number upon it.

And General Cook, of Georgia, coming out of the
hot battle of Hare's Farm, Fort Stedman, and riding
up Lombard Street, itself swept by the shell of the
enemy, his bridle arm hanging by his side, and saluting
the surgeon as he approached him, "I never dreamed
of being struck, sir." Never dreamed of being struck!
When our troops, after carrying the Yankee works
over abatis and ditch that seemed impassable, were left
without support by somebody's blunder, and were
driven back with a loss that was akin to slaughter:
when regiments were decimated, some, as Ransom's
North Carolinians, almost destroyed — and the gallant
Cook "never dreamed of being struck !"

And Gordon — his wife, who had never left him dur-
ing all of his bloody campaigns, but had shared his hard-
ships and his dangers, almost literally in bivouac and in
battle, now sick at Mr. J. P. Williamson's, on Market

24S Seventy-fit e Years in Old Firgiiiia

Street, whilst he, on the last bitter days of the siege,
was fighting fiercely, leading a forlorn hope, and send-
ing in a courier now and then to tell her of his safety ;
and finally, when all was lost and his stubborn veterans
were falling back on their last march to Appomattox,
coming himself, his face blackened with powder, and
seamed with stains as if the tears had forced themselves
through, coming to say "good-by" to the faithful,
brave woman whom he was compelled to leave behind.
I never realized before, as I did then, those inimitable
lines of Bayard Taylor —

"The bravest are the tenderest,
The loving are the daring."

And Mahone as he appeared in those last days! I
rarely saw him during the war except at his quarters.
He seemed to leave them seldom, except for some fight
which he was pushing out on the right. Quiet, un-
communicative, absorbed in his own thoughts, taking
care of his men ; such a dyspeptic that he could not
eat of the ordinary fare of the soldier, but keeping his
cow and his hens, for which provision was made that
they should be moved when he moved — but not in-
terfering, as nothing interfered with the persistence
and pertinacity with which he pursued his ends, viz:
to find the Yankees and to drive or capture them.
Whilst obedient to the commands of his superiors, he
exercised a most liberal right of private judgment
when he was sure of his facts.

It is not inopportune, in evidence of this element of
Mahone's character, to relate an incident which has
never gone out of my mind. After our bloody repulse
of the enemy at the second battle of Cold Harbor, in
June, 1864, and when both armies were at bay, Grant,
thwarted at every move to throw himself between Lee
and Richmond, and Lee watching his right with cease-

The War 249

less care, and ever present to intercept, as he had at
the Wilderness, any move of the Federal army to turn
it. General Anderson reported to General Lee that the
enemy had disappeared from his front, and Mahone was
ordered to pursue with his division and to attack.
Mahone knew that Hancock with his corps was still
in his front, and to throw his division upon them could
only end in disaster as cruel as it was unnecessary. He
informed General Lee of the fact, but Anderson, as
corps commander, insisted on the accuracy of his in-
formation, and the order was reiterated to charge.
Mahone then directed the adjutant of his old brigade,
and the adjutant of Posey's Mississippi Brigade, to se-
lect fifty men from each brigade, one hundred in all,
who would go wherever he ordered them. When they
reported, he sent for Captain Chappel, of the Forty-
first Virginia, a Marylander, who had proven his cour-
age on many a field of carnage, and said to him, "Cap-
tain, take these men and charge the enemy in your
front." "General Mahone," said Chappel, "do you
order that we should charge Hancock's Corps ? That is
in our front." "Yes," replied Mahone, "and it it due
you, Captain, that I should give you an explanation. I
know that Hancock's Corps is in your front, but Dick
Anderson [General Anderson] has told General Lee
that they have retired, and he has ordered Mahone's
Division to pursue. To obey that order means the
annihilation of my division. I cannot afiford to do
that. It is much better to sacrifice one hundred of
you than the whole. I have sent for you because I
know that you will lead these men into the face of the
enemy, and because I know that they will follow you.
You have my orders, Captain. Good-by." The
charge was made, and in perhaps less than half an hour
Chappel returned to Mahone's tent with eleven only
of the hundred left, and, touching his cap, said, "Gen-

250 Scz'cnfy-fii'c Years in Old Virginia

eral, your order lias l)een obeyed." "Thank you,
Captain ; take the men to their quarters." The others
had all been killed or captured. I know of two men
still living who will bear me out in this remarkable
statement. One, Col. Hugh Smith, an honored citizen,
and Commissioner of the Revenue of this town; the
other, a prosperous and active business man, Mr.
Patrick Raftery.

But incidents of that fearful winter crowd so fast
upon the memory that one wearies of a retrospection
that he would fain put aside. Privation, hunger, cold,
sickness, wounds, death — the daily menu in a daily en-
tertainment— the recollection of which, like Banquo's
ghost, will not down at one's bidding. Dr. H. A.
White, in his "Life of Lee," says of that winter : "Win-
ter poured down its snows and its sleets upon Lee's
shelterless men in the trenches. Some of them bur-
rowed in the earth. Most of them shivered over feeble
fires kept burning along the lines. Scanty and thin
were the garments of these heroes, most of them being
clad in mere rags. Gaunt famine oppressed them every
hour. One quarter of a pound of rancid bacon and a
little meal was the daily ration assigned to each man
by the rules of the War Department. But even this
allowance failed when the railroads broke down and
left the meal and bacon piled up along the tracks in
Georgia and the Carolinas." [This was not so much
the result of the railroads breaking down, as the fault
of negligent and incompetent agents and officers. The
iron hand which had made itself felt in impressing corn
and meat from the citizens, relaxed its grasp when the
material was gathered at the depots.] "One-sixth of
this daily ration was the allotment for a considerable
time, and often this supply failed entirely. But with
dauntless hearts these gaunt-faced men endured the
ahnost ceaseless fire of Grant's mortar batteries, and

The War 251

the frozen fingers of Lee's army of sharpshooters
clutched the musket barrel with an aim so steady that
Grant's men scarcely ever lifted their heads from their
bomb-proofs."

But these "dauntless, gaunt-faced veterans" held
their post until Lee — Lee whom they worshipped —
gave the order to leave the trenches, when they step-
ped out with martial tread, and entered on their last
march to Appomattox with cheerful, hopeful spirit,
with jest and cheer and song, as if assured victory were
awaiting them somewhere, anywhere that Lee called a
halt and formed his line of battle. Lee, sturdy of
heart, but not buoyed with hope, — for he knew what
was before him, — led them on with the same matchless
skill and the same unflinching courage which he had
shown from the Wilderness to Petersburg, and no man
could look in his face and read of the irreparable dis-
aster which he knew but too well awaited him. And
when the enemy had turned his right by their final
desperate effort at Five Forks, and broken his lines
in front of his quarters at the Turnbull house, and noth-
ing was left him but to retire, riding back toward Pe-
tersburg he said to one of his aides, "Colonel, this is a
sad business, but it is just as I told them at Richmond.
The line has been stretched until it has broken."*

"And as he continued slowly riding to the rear, the
shells from the enemy's advancing" batteries bursting
about him," quoting from White's "Life of Lee" again,
■ — "he turned his head over his riglit shoulder, his cheeks
became flushed, and a sudden flash of his eye showed
with what reluctance he retired before the fire directed
upon him ; and he continued riding slowly toward his
inner line, a low earthwork in the western suburbs of
the city, where a small force was drawn up, still ardent,

* See Appendix. "Last Fight at Five Forks."

252 Seven ty-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

hopeful, defiant, and saluting the shells now bursting
above them, with cheers and laughter. It was plain
that the fighting spirit of his ragged troops remained
unbroken; and the welcome with which they received
him indicated their unw^avering confidence in him, de-
spite the untoward condition of afTairs."

What manner of man was he ? What manner of men
were they? Words cannot paint the courage and con-
stancy of the leader, nor the confidence and devotion
akin to worship with which he inspired his followers.
At the beginning of the year 1865 Lee had barely 40,-
000 men in the trenches extending forty miles from the
Chickahominy to Hatcher's Run. Grant had 110,000,
and from these he could draw at any time enough force
to continue his hammering upon our right, which he
knew must eventually beat down any resistance that
our decimated ranks could offer. On the 5th of
February he sent a larger force to capture or turn Lee's
defenses at Hatcher's Run, but this was met by the
Confederates, who, though outnumbered ten to one,
fought with their old-time vigor and fire, and the ene-
my was driven back upon their lines. After this fight,
lasting two days and nights of the severest weather,
General Lee wrote of his men : "Under these circum-
stances, heightened by assaults, and fire of the enemy,
some of the men had been without meat for three days,
and all were suffering from reduced rations and scanty
clothing; exposed to battle, cold, hail, and sleet. The
physical strength of the men must fail, if their cour-
age survives."

It was about this time, just after this fight, that Mr.
Davis made General Lee Commander-in-Chief of all of
the Confederate armies. Too late. President Davis
was ex-of^cio Commander-in-Chief of the armies of the
Confederate States, an office whose functions he had
filled, as far as possible, to the letter, since his removal

The War 253

to Richmond ; and when he laid down his baton the
armies of the Confederate States were but a small com-
mand; and besides this, General Lee was a strict con-
structionist of the law which required of a subordinate
officer unquestioned obedience to his superior. Had
he been Commander-in-Chief, few believe that he would
have sat down in front of Petersburg, suffering" a siege
in which he had everything to lose and nothing to gain.
He knew but too well that his resources were well nigh
exhausted when he reached Petersburg; that the bril-
Hant battles he had fought on his way were but vic-
tories of Pyrrhus ; and that whilst he had inflicted upon
Grant losses quadruple to his own, yet the Federal
commander could replace every soldier lost with four
in his place, whilst the ranks in his own brave bat-
talions, thinned by continuous fighting, could never be
refilled. It was doubtless with the design of retiring
from his trenches that he made the last sortie on the
25th of March, when Gordon, at the head of the Sec-
ond Corps, made that brilliant charge on the enemy's
works at Fort Stedman, his soldiers tearing away the
abatis as they advanced, and carrying the enemy's
works by the bayonet. Longstreet, again too slow
with his supporting attachment, as he was too slow at
Gettysburg, failed to give Gordon his help, and our
victory was as ashes on the Hps. Gordon was com-
pelled to retire with a loss of 3,000 true and tried men,
worth more than twice the 2,000 which he had killed
or captured from Grant. Lee doubtless struck this
blow, hoping to cripple Grant temporarily, so as to get
an opportunity of taking his troops away safely and
joining Johnson, then making his way northward. If
it be a maxim of war to do always what you know that
your enemy does not wish you to do. this is the correct
conclusion which T have made.

254 Scvcnty-fiz'C Years in Old Virginia

Grant says, writing of this period of the war : "I had
spent days of anxiety lest each morning should bring
the report that the enemy had retreated the night be-
fore [from Petersburg]. I was finally convinced that
Sherman's crossing the Roanoke would be a signal for
Lee to leave. With Johnson and Lee combined, a
long, tedious and expensive campaign, consuming
most of the summer, might become necessary under
these tactics."

Grant sent three divisions of the Twenty-fourth and
Twenty-fifth Corps on the 27th of March to Hatcher's
Run, and on the 29th the Fifth and Second Corps, and,
on the same day, Sheridan to Dinwiddie Court House,
with 13,000 picked and well mounted cavalry. Tq
match this force Lee had transferred Pickett from his
left to his right with 10.000 infantry, and Fitz Lee with
5,000 cavalry on their "skeleton horses," who con-
fronted the enemy on the night of the 30th. The next
morning, after such fighting as can only be imagined,
Warren's Corps was forced back behind Gravelly Run,
and Sheridan from near Five Forks back to Dinwiddie
Court House. But to no avail. Both soon returned,
and with their overwhelming numbers enveloped our
thin gray lines and drove back all who were not killed
or captured.

Pickett's Division, which under its gallant leader had
been the pride of the army, and which was so nearly
destroyed at Gettysburg in their fatal charge at Ceme-
tery Hill, came out of this last fight with but few upon
its rolls. Five days afterwards, on the retreat to Ap-
|)omattox. I saw one Avho had been amongst its most
gallant staff ofificers, dispirited and oppressed with its
losses, throw himself on the ground and swear that he
would never again draw his sword from its scabbard.
Fitz Lee, with his horsemen, though losing heavily,
came out better, and with the remnant of his un-

Tlie War 255

daunted cavaliers hit the enemy many a hard lick dur-
ing the seven days' retreat before the final surrender.
A staff officer in Fitz Lee's cavalry, a man who had
seen all the fighting and been a participant in every
battle in which Lee's Brigade of cavalry had ever been
engaged, a man whose courage and dash was the ad-
miration of the army, told me that he had never wit-
nessed such desperate fighting as Lee's troops made
on the last charge on that fatal ist of April; and that
nine colonels of cavalry went down in a space that he
could compass v/ith his eye. A lady upon whose plan-
tation this last fight occurred told me that in her yard
and lawn, covering not more than a dozen acres, the
dead horses were so numerous that it required days to
haul them away and bury them, and that the stench of
the carcasses was intolerable. It would seem that Five
Forks was really the Waterloo of the Confederacy in
Virginia.

After the repulse of Fitz Lee and Pickett at Five
Forks on the morning of the ist of April, and the
breaking of our lines near the Turnbull house on the
morning of the 2d, it was evident, of course, that we
would be compelled to evacuate both Richmond and
Petersburg, and Lee sent a dispatch to Breckenridge,
Secretary of War, at Richmond, which was delivered
to Mr. Davis at St. Paul's Church about eleven o'clock.
The purport of this dispatch was that there was no
prospect of holding his position here longer than night,
if as long as that ; that he should withdraw to the north
side of the Appomattox at night, and advised the with-
drawal of all the troops from the James River at the
same time, with fhe view of concentrating all of our
forces near the Danville Railway at some point to be
designated later. This point was designated later in
the afternoon as Amelia Court House.

256 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

The troops were safely withdrawn from both Peters-
burg and Richmond, owing to the skill with which they
were handled, or to the lack of promptness and energy
of pursuit on the part of the enemy. On the 5th the
most of them had reached Amelia Court House, where
they were told that supplies awaited them, and that
food would be supplied for the whole army. On reach-
ing the Court House this was found to be a mistake.
The supply train, either through bad management
or treachery, a question never yet satisfactorily set-
tled, had been sent on to Richmond, and the
enemy got our rations. This was a fatal blunder.
Lee was detained twenty-four hours, endeavoring
to collect subsistence and horses, and in the
meantime Grant had arrived with two corps, the
Second and Sixth, and had reached Jetersville,
on the Richmond and Danville R. R. above
Ameha Court House, and thrown this superior force
across Lee's track. Had Lee been able to provision
his army at Amelia Court House he could no doubt
have cut through Sheridan's cavalry, which was in his
advance, and made his way to Danville, as he had in-
tended to do when he retired from Petersburg and
Richmond; and joining Johnston would have given
the enemy a protracted and desperate struggle, per-
haps have won a telling victory.

Grant had left his base of supplies also, and could not
have followed far with his large army, dependent upon
the country for subsistence which Lee drained as he
marched before him. Indeed, I heard a general offi-
cer of the Confederate Army, who after the war be-
came a member of Congress, say that it was currently
l)elieved in the Union Army that IMeade did order the
])ursuit to be stayed at Amelia Court House, and that
vSheridan sent a courier to find Grant wherever he could
be found, and to beg him to set aside this order and to

The War 257

press the pursuit. Moreover, Grant now held the in-
side track en route to Danville, and could mass a
heavy body of troops at any time in Lee's way if he
persisted in his effort to push through to Danville.
Nothing was left the latter then but to turn north-
ward of west, and making the old stage road from Rich-
mond to Lynchburg his way, strive to reach the latter
city, where he could draw supplies and where he would
meet with some reinforcements. Under these circum-
stances he left Amelia Court House on the night of the
5th, taking the route indicated. The next day, the
6th, Sheridan, ever active, indefatigable, and audacious,
interjected a body of his troops between Lee's column,
and then with the Second Corps, or Sixth, or perhaps
a part of both, fell upon the rear of the Confederate
Second Corps under Gordon, and captured 8,000 of
our men, including six of our generals — Custis Lee
amongst them. This was at Sailor's Creek, and the
troops were those who had been withdrawn from Rich-
mond and its defenses at the same time that Lee had
withdrawn his forces from Petersburg. Amongst them
was the Naval Brigade, or Reserves, under Admiral
Tucker, of the Confederate Navy. It is said that this
old hero of the quarter-deck did not rehsh the idea of
"giving up the ship" and of being included in the sur-
render of the forces with which he had kept company
for four days, and drawing his men up, prepared to
give the enemy the marline-spike and cutlass, and to
force his way through to Lee. I was told that it re-
quired not only the authority of the senior offtcer com-
manding the Confederate troops now lost to the army
and laying down their arms, but the earnest protest
of some Union general, who had gotten amongst them,
to convince him that he was surrounded, and that to
attempt to cut through would end in wholesale
slaughter.

258 S event y-i\i'€ Years in Old Virginia

In the confusion following- this catastrophe, the
blocking of the roads with wagons and artillery, and the
rushing of stragglers, or of some who had fortunately
and honorably gotten out of the difficulty, I met Gen-
eral Lee, without especial escort, as I had so often seen
him, riding apparently back toward the rear, as if seek-
ing by his presence to stay the rout and bring some
sort of order out of the hopeless chaos. Thas was the
last time that I ever saw General Lee during the war,
and his face was as placid and his manner as perfect as if
on dress parade he was reviewing his victorious pla-
toons. The next and last time I ever saw him was in
Petersburg, whither he had come to witness the mar-
riage of his son, Gen. W. H. F. Lee, to Miss Tabb
Boiling. I dined with him at General Alahone's, wdio
then occupied the house on the corner of Sycamore
and Marshall Streets, now occupied by Mr. R. B. Davis.
Dignified, but grave, he was accessible to all, yet left
upon all the same impress of his own superiority.

CHAPTER V

The Surrender and Events Following.

The 2nd of April, 1865 — I Prepare to Evacuate — A Pathetic Scene — •
I Note the Absence of My Dog Jack — A "Borrowed" Horse —
On to Amelia Court House — An Invitation from Mahone —
Romulus Given His "Free Papers" — A Brave Quartermaster —
I Lose All My Possessions Through a Yankee Cavalry Raid —
The Asset of a Broken Concern — "A Swig From the Same
Canteen" — The Best Forager I Ever Saw — Signs of Demoraliza-
tion— Fall Into the Hands of the Enemy — I give Away a Pair
of Spurs — Interview With General Devlin — An Invitation to a
Much-Needed Breakfast — I Show the "Sign of Distress" — Or-
dered to be Paroled — A Night Adventure — Mahone Again and
a Parole Blank — An Inhospitable Reception and the Very Op-
posite— A Question of Boots — With My Wife and Children Once
More — A disagreeable Incident — The Finale of the Old Regime.

But to return to Petersburg and follow the fortunes
which befell me on that direful day of the 2d of April,
1865, and the seven consecutive days of the retreat to
Appomattox Court House. My quarters were then
on West Washington Street, on the south side, and
about half way between South and Dunlop Streets.
About eleven o'clock A. M. on that day, Col. Peyton,
of General Lee's stafif, riding rapidly in from the direc-
tion of the Turnbull house, General Lee's headquar-
ters, drew up his horse at my door and informed me
that Gen. A. P. Hill had been killed, our lines broken,
and that Petersburg would be evacuated that evening.
He had no orders for me, but said that mine would
come later. They came pretty soon afterwards, and
were to the effect that, taking all the surgeons and all
the hospital attaches that could be spared, with any
wounded offtcers that wished to go, and were able to
travel, I should leave as early as possible, and go to

26o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Amelia Court House, where we would find further
orders, and where transportation would be furnished
to Danville, Virginia.

After looking into matters, I saw that but few sur-
geons or hospital attaches could be spared from the
post, and I ordered to be ready for marching, four sur-
geons, as many hospital attaches (nurses), two am-
bulances, one chaplain, and several young colored men
who had been serving in various capacities about the
hospitals. One of these was my valet Romulus, whom
his mother brought to me just before I left, with the
injunction to "follow marster to the end of the earth ;
and if he don't come back, don't you come back
either." Early in the afternoon I started my little
cortege over the river at Campbell's Bridge, and di-
rected them to take the road to Chesterfield Court
House, and to pursue that until I overtook them. In
the meantime I waited at the door of the Confederate
Hospital, located in a large tobacco factory at the cor-
ner of Jones and Washington Streets, as if stayed by
the horrible fascination of the sights and sounds of
that terrible Sabbath afternoon. The city was envi-
roned on the east, the south, and the west, and the
fighting was as fierce as if men could not be satiated
with blood.

As I stood at the hospital door, loath to leave my
home and city, — for I felt that I should never see
either again as I saw them then, if I ever saw them at
all, the wounded were being hurried in from ambu-
lances and upon stretchers, their moans mingling with
the cries of women, the shrieking and bursting of shell,
and the hoarse orders of men in authority, — two scenes
caught my eye, as indelibly fixed there now as on that
Holy Sabbath eve which the great God had seemingly
given up to the devils in pandemonium. A stretcher
was borne in the gateway by four soldiers, just from

The Surrender and Events Following 261

the near front, one of them crying, "My poor Captain,
my poor Captain; the best man that ever lived." A
large, finely-made man he was, his right arm shot
away at the shoulder joint, and the quivering, bleeding
flesh soiled with dust and stained with powder, and
filled with the shreds of the gray sleeve that had been
hurriedly cut ofif. Something moved me, as the bear-
ers halted, to uncover the face over which some rude
but kindly hand had thrown a piece of dirty blanket.
Great God ! There lay before me a friend of my earl-
iest boyhood. Years had passed since we parted. I
had known him as the gentlest, most lovable of men,
living in a quiet, country home amidst a simple-hearted,
peace-loving people, an Arcadia in which war was not
even a dream. But he did not know me. His honest,
brave life was fast ebbing away, and the mist was
gathering over his eyes which could only be swept of¥
in the sunlight of that country where the nations shall
learn war no more.

I turned away from the scene heart-sick, when a poor
woman caught me by the hand, crying, "Doctor, will you
not get some one to help me carry my poor husband
home ? I can take care of him and nurse him better than
any one here — there he is." And there, lying only a few
feet away in the hospital yard, where with others he
had been hurriedly brought in and put down anywhere^
that space could be found, was a private, an humble
citizen, not subject to regular service, but belonging
to the second-class militia, who had been summoned
to the defense of the city when our lines grew so thin.
He had fallen in battle at a spot near where, in peace,
he had lived with his wife and little ones, and now he
lay, a fourth part of his skull carried away with a frag-
ment of a shell, exposing his brain, leaving him with
some little automatic life, but of course not conscious,
whilst his poor wife was striving to get from him some

2()2 Sci'oily-fli'c Years in Old Virginia

sign of recognition, and begging that he might be car-
ried home. I could only stop to tell her that my right
to order was at an end ; but if a thousand men were
at my beck none could help her now. I could see no
more, but mounting my horse and riding slowly along,
I crossed the river at Campbell's Bridge, and on the
heights at Ettricks took one last look at Petersburg as
it was — Petersburg, the city for a hundred years of
happy homes, of brave men, and of fair women. When
I returned two months afterwards, the collar was upon
the neck of the freemen and the serf held the chain.

Following the road toward Chesterfield Court
Plouse, I soon overtook my little cortege, and found
all present save one. This was a bob-tailed, bob-eared,
rough-haired Scotch terrier, about twelve years of age.
He had seen no little service, and he showed it. When
it suited his views to answer at all, he would answer to
the name, of Jack. He was irritable, self-as-
serting, frail as to virtue, — his name disagreeably as-
sociated with any number of scandals, — but full of faith
in his master, and irrevocably attached to his master's
fortunes or misfortunes. I had given my chief of am-
bulance orders, before leaving Petersburg, that who-
ever might be left behind, Jack should go ; and that
proper transportation should be furnished him. He
had always had too high an appreciation of himself to
walk, and had ridden more thousands of miles, had
fallen out of more vehicles, and been run over oftener
than any other dog in the world. I assert this without
fear of contradiction. He had but few friends, and but
little capacity to make them, and some difference of
opinion on the subject of riding had occurred between
him and the chief of ambulance before the start from
Petersburg, and hence Jack had been left behind. I
said to the chief, "Return to the city at once, and bring
me my dog, or fall into the hands of the enemy your-

TJie Surrender and Events Follozvi)i<i 26

self." The man looked at me for a minute as if he
would question such an order; but four years of dis-
cipline and obedience had not lost its force on the first
night of the retreat, so he turned off and retraced his
steps to Petersburg. I never expected to see him
again; but late at night, after we had gone into camp
about five miles from the city, he returned on horse-
back, and leading Jack by a chain of white handker-
chiefs. He said that he had borrozved the horse. Sol-
diers generally had but little difficulty in horrozving a
horse, provided they could find one without a rider in
hailing distance, so that I did not inquire where he had
borrowed it. I did have some curiosity to know where
he got the handkerchiefs though, and ventured to ask
him. "Well, sir." he said, "they are breaking up every-
thing in town, and looting the stores, and I found these
handkerchiefs at the head of Old Street."

We were all very tired after the stirring events of
the day, and were soon sound asleep. We were awak-
ened, however, in some two or three hours by firing a
few miles to our rear, and finally a heavy explosion in
the same direction. \Yt rose to our feet, and thinking
there was danger of pursuit, determined to move on.
Jack, however, who had been sharing my blanket, be-
came demoralized, and sought individual safety in in-
dividual flight. I never saw him again until my return
to Petersburg some two months subsequent to this date,
when he was one of the first to meet and greet me, and
his expressions of joy were very effusive. Some one
had evidently taken good care of him, and I heard from
some of the hospital people whom I had left behind me
that he had gone over to the enemy, as did some other
dogs of whom we had a right to expect better things.
However, the prodigal returned to stay, and when I
left Petersburg a few days afterwards in an ambulance,
seeking my family in central North Carolina, he was

264 Seventy- five Years in Old Virginia

ready to secure his place in the vehicle. When I
reached my wife and children he went to them as faith-
fully as if he had never turned his back on a friend;
but for the balance of his life he would never follow me
again. I suspect he had the memory of many hot places
into which I had led him. His subsequent history is
not without interest, but its details would lead me far-
ther from my subject than its importance would justify.
I will only add that he was ever a poor soldier, and al-
ways left when the firing began, — not always without
company, — impelled by thirst or some other consider-
ation of a personal character. But his service in civil
life in a long career entitled him, in my opinion, to
civil sepulture, and his grave may be found in the sec-
tion marked "Claiborne" in the Old Blandford Ceme-
tery, and his epitaph in the third chapter of Ecclesias-
tes, 20th and 21st verses.

But to return to our story. With the exception of
Jack, therefore, our party moved, and after a tedious
night's march over execrable roads (the country roads
were no better ante-bellum than now), we reached
Chesterfield Court House about nine or ten o'clock
next morning, and found Mahone's Division drawn up
at right angles across the road. They received us with
cheers, and opened ranks for us to pass through. With
these bronzed veterans, the heroes of an hundred fights
behind us, we dismissed all fear of pursuit, and passing
along a few hundred yards, laid down to rest and await
further orders. After some hours they came. "Take
the right-hand road to Goode's Bridge ; rendezvous at
Amelia Court House, there rations and transportation
by rail to Danville will be furnished you."

We re-commenced our march, but did not reach
Goode's Bridge that night, bivouacking somewhere
near, just on the side of the road. We had not yer
struck the stream of the retreating army, with its im-

The Surrender and Bvenfs Follon'ing 265

peclimenta of baggage wagons, ambulances, ammuni-
tion trains, etc., but late in the afternoon we passed a
typical old Virginia mansion near the road, and on the
well-kept lawn, under patriarchal oaks. General Ma-
hone was seated, with his staff, evidently awaiting
something. He recognized me — indeed, I had been
one of his early friends — and called to me to dismount,
tie my horse, and "come and get something to eat."
My habits of obedience were too well established, after
four years of service, to permit me to refuse, so I joined
the party, telling my people to go on, but to await me
before going into camp. Butter-milk, fried chicken,
and ash cake were soon brought out under the shade
of the trees, and we enjoyed the hospitable repast as
only soldiers could do "who had nowhere to sleep and
nothing to eat for days." As soon as we had finished
our repast the General said, "It is time we were off."

I rode along with him leisurely for an hour or so be-
fore we came up with our men, talking more of the
past — in which we had many things of interest in com-
mon— than of the future, upon which neither of us
looked as of much promise. After a little time he
reined up his horse, and looking at me gravely said,
"Doctor, what are you going to do now?" I told him
of my plans, or rather of my orders. He replied, "Take
my advice, send your detachment along with one of
your surgeons, and stay with me. If any troops get
out of this trouble, Mahone's Division will get
through." I had great confidence in Mahone, and in
his resources and his men, scarred and bronzed in cam-
paign and battle for four long years ; I believed in him
and I believed in them ; but my little company had
gone on under my orders and I felt that I had better
follow them, and so I said, "General, you have a very
good surgeon on your staff." "Yes," he said, "there
is Wood." "Well then, as you have no need of my

266 Scrciily-frir ]'cars in Old J'irg'uiia

service, I will go on, though I thank you for the com-
pliment you pay me, and appreciate your kindness."
"Go on then," he replied; "but you will be sorry that
you did not remain with Mahone's Division." We
shall see in the denouement how far the wisdom of my
course was justified.

We went into camp that night near Amelia Court
House, and next morning I arose early, and mounting
my horse rode to that place for the purpose of getting
further orders and the transportation which had been
promised me. Just before reaching there I came upon
a bivouac of officers — two generals and several other
officers of high command. I recognized Maj. Thos.
Branch amongst them, who introduced me, and as they
were just going to breakfast, invited me to join them.
I declined this civility, but asked where I could see or
communicate with General Lee, or one of his staff,
making known the object of my wishes. They could
give me no information except that the rations which
we expected to get there had gone on to Richmond, and
that as to transportation by rail, that the Danville Rail-
road was in the hands of the enemy. More than this,
that if the army continued to follow the road — the
country road — to the left and parallel to the one which
we followed yesterday, a fight would be in order
very soon. Indeed, a desultory firing was heard just
then, and the officers mounting their horses moved off
to the front, Major Branch and I retiring.

On getting back to the road which we had been fol-
lowing the day before, we found that the whole army
train had been ordered to follow the same road, as
promising more safety, or less probability of being in-
terrupted by the enemy. I got my cortege into line
— wagon, ambulance, buggy, etc. — after some scurry-
ing and SAvearing (the latter done only by the inferior
officers), and took up the line of n^arch. we did not

The Siirrcndcv and Brents Folloiving 267

know whither. Only one who has followed a large army
can know how slowly, and with how many halts, a wa-
gon train can move. A broken axle or a balky horse
can detain the whole line for hours. One wagon can
hardly find opportunity to pass another, and when such
a thing is attempted, it is met with a storm of obloquy
and opprobrious language that even a quartermaster's
nerves become shaken. Being well mounted on a fine
black mare which I had gotten from an impressing of-
ficer the day before, and which was too high strung for
artillery, I rode along the line to and fro for some
hours, exchanging views with an occasional comrade
with whom I would meet.

I soon became convinced that unless our enemy were
of the most listless and unenterprising character, that
the wagon train would soon come to grief, and my lit-
tle party with it. I called to Romulus — the colored
boy, who had been a favorite servant at home, and
the one whom his mother had brought to me upon
leaving Petersburg and bidden him to "follow mars-
ter to the end of the earth" — and said to him :
"Boy, no Yankee shall ever claim that he gave you
your freedom. I will free you right here." Getting
down from my horse, I wrote for him what was known
at the South before the war as his "free papers," and
giving him a knife as a memento of his master, — if he
never saw him again. — and as much money as I could
spare, I told him to follow me as long as it was safe for
him, but when things became too hot to skedaddle in
any direction which seemed to be the safest. He pock-
eted my bequests and went along with the cortege, but
evidently the whole affair seemed to him a good joke.

I remained talking to some friends, knowing that I
could overtake the party in five minutes at any time,
and had ridden forward not more than a mile when I
came to an open space on the side of the road, just at

:^G8 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

the beginning of which some one had evidently been
camping, and left a good deal of forage on the ground
when leaving. I got off my mare and took the bit out
of her mouth, determined to give her a good square
meal. She had just begun to eat when some one cried
"Yankees!'' I looked across the field, and a few hun-
dred yards away, coming from a road that ran at right
angles to ours, there was a company of Yankee cav-
alry, and there was a general rush of teamsters and
stragglers back to the rear. I remembered that the
sergeant from whom I got my mare the day before
had told me that she was "hard to bit." and I thought
that if she should be a fool now% we both would have a
short shrift. She behaved very well, however, and I
soon bitted her and w^as on her back, but in mounting
I dropped one of my gauntlets, a scarce article at that
time, and one which I could illy afford to lose, and
started to dismount and recover it ; but never did cav-
alry arrive so rapidly and in such numbers! I had just
time to dash out into the woods on the opposite side of
the road, and make my retreat as fast as the impedi-
ments of riding through the woods would permit, which
was not. very fast, but which gave me an opportunity
to see that the enemy were comparatively few in num-
ber, and lining along the road were shooting the mules
and horses, with no other idea than obstructing the
road and disabling us by destroying the teams.

There were a number of our men rushing back
through the woods, many of them armed, and I begged
them to halt and save the train ; calling their attention
to the small number of the enemy, and to the fact that
they were not shooting at the men but at the horses
and mules. One old soldier whom I tried to stop look-
ed at me in a dazed kind of a way, and said, "If you are
fool enough to believe that, you can stop, I am going
on." I looked at the stars upon my collar, and thoug^ht

The Surrender and Events Pollozving 269

of endeavoring to enforce my authority, when a stream
of stragglers rushed by, increasing in number, and
making a panic that was irresistible. In a few minutes
a goodly number of us came out together in the road,
a little out of range of the fire. Here I noticed a col-
onel of our cavalry, afoot and trying to stay the rout;
but they paid no more attention to him than to me.
Just then my attention was directed to a quartermas-
ter who had gotten his wagon as a sort of a breast-
work in a very narrow part of the road, on either side of
which was a growth utterly impenetrable to cavalry,
and seeing the advantages of his position, was begging
the men to "stand and shoot." One man said he had
no gun. "Plenty of guns and ammunition in my wa-
gon," said our doughty quartermaster, and seeing me
at the same time, he jumped upon the pole of his wa-
gon, or something near it, and shouted, "Major, you
have been to the front, speak to the men and tell them
how few of the enemy there are who are attacking us."
Continuing his harangue (his words are as fresh in my
memory as if yesterday were that eventful day), he
cried : "Stand, men ! Stand, men ! Right here ! Five
determined men can stop this whole rout! Stop; for
your country's sake, stop ! For General Lee's sake,
stop ! For God's sake, stop ! For my sake, stop !"

In the meantime I was so attracted by his earnest-
ness, if not moved by his eloquence, that I did not note
the situation as accurately as I should otherwise have
done, and I was rather startled into consciousness of
the real condition of things by two or three of the
enemy riding up in most disagreeable proximity, and
pop, pop, pop (not at the horses this time) from their
carbines, which purported to shoot sixteen times with-
out reloading, but which seemed to me to shoot more
nearly sixteen hundred times. My quartermaster made
fight, I think — at least somebody fired a gun ; then the

2^0 Seventy-fire Years in Old Virginia

quartermaster went down with a broken arm, I heard
afterwards, though I never saw him again. My mare
not reHshing the situation and being under fire for the
first time, whirled around with me, and I discovered
that I held the field alone ; she discovered the same
thing, and several other things it seemed, which lent
wings to her feet, and without at all consulting my
wishes, but in full accord with my desires, she left in-
continently, I lying upon her neck and not knowing
what minute I should receive an inglorious wound in
the most exposed portion of my person.

The fugitives must have made very good time, as it
was nearly a quarter of an hour before I overtook any
of them, and then I ran into an officer, whom I recog-
nized by the richness of his expletives as a North Caro-
lina quartermaster and an old friend. Then there were
several other officers, one with three stars upon his
collar, before whom I had appeared in a court martial
a few months before. Some one of the stragglers call-
ed out, "fall in, Company Q," but it was noted as a
piece of pleasantry not at all appropriate to the occa-
sion, and as a liberty for which any private should be
condemned. My quartermaster friend and I left the
road and went across the field in the direction of a par-
allel road, where we thought we might be able to place
ourselves under the aegis of some of Lee's fighting
men. We had gone but a few hundred yards when a
regiment of infantry came at a double-quick right
toward us from a valley to our left, and in some pe-
culiar light reflected upon them seemed dressed in blue,
so we prepared to surrender to the Yankees. It turned
out, however, to be the Twelfth North Carolina, sent
to rescue the wagon train ; and they were followed by
a regiment of cavalry, sent to interrupt Sheridan's
ubiquitous troops. We followed them back to the lo-
cation where we had left our eloquent quartermaster

The Siirrciider and Events Following 271

on the pole of his wagon; but the enemy had gone,
and so had the quartermaster. We heard afterwards
that he had escaped, though with a broken arm. Pass-
ing farther on we found that they had shot a number
of horses and mules, though somebody had evidently
stood their ground, — some wagoner I suppose, — for
several dead troopers with their grayish yellow-trim-
med uniform lay on the ground. One who had fallen
ofif his horse was so drunk that we could not consci-
entiously kill him, or conveniently take him prisoner,
and we left him lying near the road. My little cortege
was struck just about this place.

Romulus had been taken prisoner, with several oth-
ers, but the surgeons had escaped into the woods, and
came up as we arrived. One of our party, a handsome
3'oung lady of Suffolk, Virginia, Miss R., who was tak-
ing care of her brother, Capt. R., a cavalry officer with
a broken arm, and who was seated by him in my com-
missary wagon, refused to leave the wagon when they
ordered her, and defied them to burn it, and so saved a
few of our pitiful stores. She also gave evidence that
somebody had done some shooting, as she showed sev-
eral bullet holes in her dress. They took her brother
away from her, however, and made him a prisoner. I
regretted that she had not had her place in my quarter-
master's wagon, as stored in my baggage was a military
cloak of great value, too fine for any officer under the
grade of lieutenant general, which I had never worn,
and which I had hoped to save for my three little girls,
who had been refugeeing during the war in Louisburg,
North Carolina. This cloak had been sent me as a
present. It came from abroad, I presume, through the
blockade, and its price in Confederate money was esti-
mated at fifteen hundred dollars. Besides this, I lost
every article of clothing I had in the world except that
which I had on my person. My greatest loss was a

2^2 Sci'e)\ty-i\ve Years in Old Virginia

diary, kept from the days of the Charleston Conven-
tion, 1861, which inaugurated the war of secession.
This was bound in vellum and bristled with facts that
none could gainsay. I have felt its loss particularly in
evolving these reminiscences.

We got our young lady friend aboard the wagon of
a quartermaster of the North Carolina regiment, where
she found agreeable companionship in a Miss D., of
New Orleans, and a Mrs. S., of Raleigh, North Caro-
lina, who with some other ladies were trying to get
out, or keep out, of the enemy's lines. I saw this wa-
gon party the next day, and judging from the music
and laughter which issued from under its cover, their
misfortunes had not seriously affected their spirits.
The day after we met these ladies again under different
circumstances. With the surgeons of my little party,
four of us, I had gone forward to the front, and after a
short time came upon General Longstreet and several
of his staff, apparently lounging at rest. Still going
on and suspecting nothing, we suddenly came upon a
line of battle, the men strung out diagonally across the
road at an eminence. Infantry; no artillery to attract
attention, but some little stir going on in the front.
Just then an ambulance was hurriedly driven up, and a
lady in it cried, "Don't take me right into the battle!
Don't take me right into the battle !" I rode up to see
what service I could render, when a young infantry of-
ficer took hold of the mules and rapidly drove them
down under the shelter of the hill. We followed and
found other surgeons there rigging an extemporan-
eous table, and evidently preparing for sanguinary
work. Strangely enough there had gotten together
our lady friends of the day before at the same place — ■
Miss D. and Miss R., and the lady in the ambulance
was Mrs. S. Feeling secure from the firing, which be-
gan in earnest, we made our arrangements to stop and

The Surrender and Bvents Follozving 273

give what assistance we could as surgeons. Indeed,
one poor fellow had just been brought in, shot through
the knee, and we were contemplating amputation, when
a courier rode up hastily from General Longstreet, or
General Lee, with orders for the surgeons to leave at
once and to leave the ladies and the ambulance and the
wagon and everything, showing us a path through the
woods by which we could make our way out safely. We
left at once, of course, after a hurried adieu to our
friends, who soon fell into the hands of the Yankees.
We subsequently heard that they were treated with
great courtesy, and were sent back to Petersburg.

But we must go back to the scene of our personal
disaster. Of my cortege, besides the surgeons who
escaped into the woods and returned as the fighting
troops came up, there were two colored hospital at-
taches who came also, preferring, as they said, to take
their chances in Dixie rather than go North ; and my
orderly, a Moravian from Salem-Winston, who would
not fight on account of religious scruples, but who as
a forager and factotum was invaluable. Indeed, the
reason why he was not captured was that he was ofif on
a foraging expedition when the train was attacked. He
returned on a very fine young horse, which I suspect
the enemy had taken and found unmanageable and re-
leased. Buchhart — that was my man's name — rode
him during the balance of the route to Appomattox,
though I saw him get some hard falls. However, one
animal was left — a mule belonging to the Confederate
Government, but which I had hitched to a buggy be-
longing to myself, and used as a supplement to my
means of transportation. He had escaped the bullets
of the enemy, and was standing just out of the road,
in the midst of the general destruction, with appear-
ance so forlorn and lugubrious that it was impossible
not to smile. There was also near him a sad and seedy-

2/4 Seveiily-five Years in Old Virginia

looking- darky. I called the man to me, and hastily
writing, on the pommel of my saddle, a note in dog-
gerel, directed him to take the mule and buggy to a
handsome residence a few hundred yards away, and
deliver both to the gentleman who lived there. I had
no idea who this gentleman was, nor did I dream of
ever hearing from mule or man again. But I did. The
gentleman was an honored member of my profession,
who must have thought such a note very absurd and
very unfitting an occasion of so much disaster. But
in the June following I received a letter, sent somehow
by the doctor, — mails were not reestablished then, —
saying that he had a mule and buggy in good condition
belonging to me, and that if I would send for them
he would take pleasure in returning the same. I per-
suaded an impecunious Confederate comrade, who had
just been released from Point Lookout, to go for them.
sending my most grateful acknowledgments, and an
humble apology for the levity of the ill-timed doggerel
with which I had committed them to his charge. It is
perhaps now difficult to understand how one could re-
tain such lightness under circumstances so depressing,
but soldiers — poor fellows — often lightened their mis-
ery by merriment. Many a joke was made amidst the
fiercest fighting, and many a brilliant sally was spoken
by lips sealed the next moment in death. My comrade
came safely back in a few days, escaping on the road
the dangers of Yankees, and stragglers from both flags,
who had the most peculiar and free notion of the sanc-
tity of private property, especially if such property
were represented by horse or mule flesh. For some
time after that date horse stealing was not rated as
grand larceny. Comrade S. drove up to my quarters,
and alighting from the buggy announced laconically,
"Here's your mule," and disappeared. I think he had
possibly been weighing in his thoughts some of the

The Surrender and Events Polloiving 275

difficulties which perplexed mine, and as he had no
interest in settling them, withdrew from the scene.

The question was, to whom did the mule belong?
He was the asset (no pun) of a broken concern — the
Confederate Government, — which had gone into the
hands of a receiver; and many a representative of that
receiver appeared on our streets in the person of a
Yankee quartermaster. I really felt some conscien-
tious scruple myself; besides, my old comrades, who
had gotten hold of the story, jeered me, and so I con-
cluded that I would seek counsel of "my friends the
enemy," stating a supposed case. I did so, and ap-
proached an officer, whom I did not know, but who
seemed a good fellow, and asked him his views. He
took hold of the question promptly and practically,
made it appear at once that he understood the situa-
tion, and paid me the compliment to say, "If you have
a mule of that sort and don't sell him at once and put
the money at once in your pocket, you are a bigger fool
than I take you to be." I acted upon this suggestion
without delay, sold my mule for seventy-five dollars,
and my buggy for seventy-five (in greenbacks), and
with this capital stock commenced life anew.

But again I anticipate my story. Let me go back
to the scene of the wreckage of the train of which I
have spoken. It had been struck by one of the ma-
rauding bands of Sheridan's picked cavalry which hung
on the flanks of our army night and day, and which
under guides knew the country well — the cross-roads
by which they could fall on one side or other of our
wagon trains, capture, burn, disable and destroy, and
safely retire on the appearance of fighting men. The
especial prize which attracted them on this occasion
was a battery of six new Brook guns which had been
brought out from Richmond at the evacuation of that
city, and which were drawn by very fine horses, iiTi-

2/6 Sc':'Cfify--fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

pressed for that purpose, belonging to parties in Rich-
mond. It is unnecessary to say that the guns and
horses were carried off by the enemy. Besides, more
than one hundred wagons and ambulances were burned
and a number of mules and horses shot, so that it was
some hours before the march could be resumed. As
but few of our party were left, and we had nothing on
wheels to encumber us, we did not wait for the general
move, but resumed our way, light of baggage.

But few incidents worthy of record occurred under
my personal observation during the next day. One,
I remember, impressed me so strongly that it never has
been erased from my mind. During Thursday night,
— sometime during the small hours, — at a creek, or
double creek they called it, a panic occurred ; and with
wagons such as were left, stragglers, retainers, and not
a few soldiers, there was a blockade of the way, and
confusion worse confounded. It took us a little time
to get out of it ; but, unincumbered, we found our-
selves more fortunate than many others, and were just
coming out when I met General Lee riding slowly
toward the rear, possibly, I thought, with a purpose
of trying to straighten out the inextricable tangle into
which matters had gotten. I passed him near enough
to look into his face. He rode erect, as if incapable of
fatigue, and with the same dignity of carriage that I
had so often noted on the streets of Petersburg. From
his manner no man could have discerned that which he
knew so well, viz : that his army was fast melting away,
that his resources were exhausted, and that in a very
few days he would be compelled to deliver up to the
enemy, which he had defeated so often, the remnants
of those ragged jackets who had followed him for four
long years, and who had never failed except "in their
own annihilation."

The Surrender and Events Following 277

Another incident entirely personal I record. Dur-
ing the night, which was quite cold, one of my surgeons
chanced to meet a quartermaster friend who had some
whiskey. He brought up this gentleman, and under
stress of our misfortunes we found excuse for indulg-
ing in a drink all around, "a swig from the same can-
teen." It was the first drink that I had taken in many
months, and though I suppose the whiskey was as good
as any, it had the most peculiar and unhappy effect
upon me. I had congratulated myself up to that night
that I was immune to hunger, to fatigue, to scare and
to sleep ; but after that drink I was so hungry, so tired,
and so scared that I was ashamed of myself, and withal
so sleepy that I had to get ofif of my horse and walk
for some distance to keep myself awake.

We reached Farmville early the next morning, and
here my untiring and irrepressible orderly, Buchhart,
discovered that Major Fred Scott, one of the assistant
commissary generals, was issuing rations. How he
discovered it I never knew; but the Major was hand-
ing out to such soldiers as passed him pieces of bacon,
and such portions of flour or meal as they could find
means to carry along with them. Buchhart got hold
of a middHng of Virginia meat and some quarts of
flour, but where he found the bag into which he re-
ceived the flour has never been accounted for to this
day. I have stated already that he was the best for-
ager I ever saw, but I am inclined to think that he
never signed a requisition for the supplies which he
was fortunate enough to get. He insisted after getting
these rations that we should halt, and that he would
go into somebody's kitchen and cook perhaps a three
days' supply. We consented, and I turned aside into
a narrow street, and lying down tied my horse's reins
around my body and was soon asleep. I used this pre-
caution because a brother officer had lost his horse

278 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

two nights before, stolen from his side whilst asleep.
When my faithful orderly awakened me and we had
gotten our little party together again, nearly the whole
of Lee's army — the infantry and artillery, I am sure —
had passed through the streets of Farmville and cross-
ed the bridge over the Appomattox River, placing
themselves again on the north side of that stream.
Some of the cavalry was left and was having a lively
time holding the Yankee advance in check that was
coming inconveniently near the little town.

We had no time to eat then, of course, but hurried
down to the bridge, but with our rations cooked, and
went over the river with the rear guard. This was
nothing like as numerous as were the Yankee prison-
ers of whom they had charge, and who crossed over at
the same time. There seemed to be several thousand
of them. I noticed that many of them carried joints
or middlings of bacon, such as I saw issued to our sol-
diers, and I have no doubt that Major Scott very gen-
erously divided his last commissary stores with them.
A soldier could no more bear to see a fellow-soldier
hungry, whether friend or foe, than to be hungry him-
self. And did not our enemies, after we had surrend-
ered at Appomattox Court House, divide their rations
with us? These amenities soften the bitter passions
engendered by the cruelties of war, and prove after all
that human hearts are ever akin when trouble and sor-
row come. After the rear guard, with the prisoners,
had passed over the bridge, orders were given to burn
it, which was done at once by a member of General
Lee's stafif, Major Cook, who was sent back for the
purpose. The cavalry was left to take care of itself,
which it did by crossing the river at a ford a short way
above Farmville.

When we reached the hills above Farmville, on the
opposite side of the river, we found a great many guns,

71ie Surrender and Events Pollowing , 279

not drawn up in a position for firing, but more like
going into park. This we did not understand at the
time, but which we remembered when we learned that
General Lee had sent a note to General Grant that
morning asking upon what terms he would accept the
surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia. Nothing
came of the note, which was probably intended as a
ruse by General Lee, in order to gain a little time
and to get his forces together, for a few hours after-
wards he sent another note to Grant saying that the
time had not arrived, in his opinion, when it was neces-
sary or proper to surrender his army. In the mean-
time the army had been hurried up on the roads on the
north side of the river, leading westward, and we fol-
lowed. In a few hotirs we came upon General Lee's
headquarters, wagon and ambulance, and his carriage.
This was the first time I ever saw his carriage, or ever
knew that he had one. He must have resorted to it
very rarely, though one of the headquarters men told
me that he had used it once or twice during the re-
treat.

They were tearing up and throwing out from his
wagon and box numbers of papers and letters, etc., evi-
dently a clearing up of the ship for action, and pre-
paring for the worst. Dr. Guild, General Lee's medi-
cal director, was also present, with his wife, in another
ambulance ; and knowing me very well, invited me to
remain with them to the last, which could not be far
off. I thanked him, and intended doing so, but there
was a hurried "forward," a daily and nightly reitera-
tion, and in the move we lost sight of him and his am-
bulance and never saw him again.

In the meantime, being unincumbered with baggage,
and independent of orders, we moved forward, keep-
ing with the advance of the army, and determined to

28o Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

get away and go to join General Johnson in North
Carohna, if possible.

We moved on, without especial incident to us, until
Saturday afternoon preceding the surrender. There
were signs of demoralization and disintegration of our
forces on every hand. Soldiers who had been men
and who had faced death in every form, upon a hun-
dred fields, without flinching or dismay; officers, even
of high grade, without command, and assuming no
authority; muskets thrown aside along the highway,
or sticking in the ground by the bayonet, evidenced
this fact. Not that there were no fighting men left.
The old veterans, like the old guard at Waterloo, knew
how to stand and how to die. When called to halt and
keep back "those people," as General Lee ever spoke
of the Federals, they rallied with the old joyful light of
battle in their faces, gaudamcn ccrtaminis, delivered
their withering fire, and sullenly moved on again; but
though always inflicting fearful loss, yet always leav-
ing some faithful comrade of their own "dead on the
field of honor," until their numbers grew so thin that
the end or annihilation was evident to all.

Up to that time the surrender of the Army of North-
ern Virginia had not entered into my conception. To
me, as to every Southerner, — as to every man, woman
and child in the Confederacy, — it had been the em-
bodiment of courage, and fortitude, and heroism. The
cause for which it had fought for long years was the
cause of liberty, and truth, and right. God could
never let those brave battalions go down before might,
whose standards had been held up for so many years
by the hands of our heroes ; those battle flags could
never trail in the dust, which, kissed and consecrated
by Southern women, had been baptized by the blood
of the truest and best of earth. Surely the prayers
of a million of Christian men and women, proving their

The Surrender and Events Polloiving 281

faith by their works of self-abnegation and self-sur-
render, could not fail to have a hearing above, w^here
the destiny of nations was determined and ordained!
Ah, many a heavy-hearted old soldier, trudging his way
home after the surrender at Appomattox Court House,
believed, with Bonaparte, that Providence was always
on the side of the heaviest ordnance!

On the afternoon of the 8th, the day preceding the
surrender, our little party, keeping to the front with
some sections of artillery, which, mostly out of ammu-
nition, had been ordered to push ahead on the Lynch-
burg road, came upon Colonel Peyton, one of Gen-
eral Lee's inspector-generals, putting in position a
small body of infantry upon a knoll commanding a con-
siderable view of the surrounding country. There did
not seem to be more than two hundred in all. As he
was an especial friend, I rode up to him and asked him
what command it was. He replied slowly and sadly,
"That is what is left of the First Virginia Regiment,
and it is the sole guard of the left flank of the Army of
Northern Virginia." At a long distance beyond range
there could be seen a body of Federal horse, hovering
around as birds of prey, and awaiting opportunity.
Within range of my eye there were many muskets
stuck up in the ground by the bayonet, whose owners,
heart-sick and faint from hunger and fatigue, had
thrown them away and gone — none knew whither.
God help the poor fellows and forgive them ! Four
years of peril and fatigue and fighting had proved their
metal, but gaunt hunger had at last overcome them —
overcome their manhood — and they had scattered
through the country anywhere out of range of the
enemy, to any house or hut that promised a piece of
bread. I saw men whose rations for days had been
corn stolen from the horses' feed, and parched, and
munched as they marched and fought.

2^2 Sei'eiity-fiz'c Years in Old Virgi)iia

I said to Colonel Peyton, "Does General Lee know
how few of his soldiers are left, or to what extremities
they are reduced?" He replied, "I do not think that he
does." "Then, whose business is it to tell him, if not his
first inspectors." "I cannot tell him," he replied, "1
cannot." For the first time my fortitude failed me,
and choking with tears I said to my little party, "Let
us push on, we can be of no further use here. May-
be we can get to Johnston's army in North Carolina,
or maybe some leader beyond the Mississippi will raise
the stars and bars, and liberty find there a rallying point
and refuge." To that time my faith in the final success
of the Confederate cause was strong ; but when the
sun went down behind the hills of the Appomattox
I looked upon life as a bauble, and the only blessed
ones those brave men who were sleeping in soldier's
graves without knowledge of defeat, without the taste
of the ignominy of walking under the victor's yoke.

As I rode along, some of the classic readings of a
happy past haunted my memory, and I thought of
Ulysses, after the siege of Troy, wandering the world
a wretched waif, and of Homer's lines:

"Happy, thrice happy, wlio in battle slain
Pressed in At rides' cause the Trojan plain.
Oh ! had I died before that well fought wall,
Had some distinguished day renowned my fall ;
Such as was that when showers of javelin sped
From conquering Troy around Achilles' head."

Odyssey, Lib. 5, verse 306.

And I thought of the grand Latin epic, and of the
laments of the unhappy ./^neas, and his song —

"Oh ! terque, quaterque beati,
Quis ante ora patrum Trogae
Sub moenibns altis
Contejfit oppcrtere."

The Surrender and Events Following 283

" 'Thrice happy those whose fate it was to fall !'
Exclaims the chief before the Trojan wall;
Oh ! 'twas a glorious fate to die in fight,
To die so bravely in their parents' sight.
Oh ! had I then bejieath Tydides hand,
The bravest hero of the Grecian band,
Poured out the soul with martial glory fired,
And in the plain triumphantly expired,
When Hector fell by great Achilles' hand."

Virgil, ^neid. Book i, ver. 91.

But there was no time for sentiment. We hurried
on, and reached Appomattox Court House just before
sunset — passing the Httle village and going into camp
a mile, perhaps, beyond it, near some guns of the ar-
tillery, broken sections of which had been ordered on
to Lynchburg. I had taken the bridle off of my mare
that she might enjoy a little forage, and was lying down
with my head on my saddle, asleep, supposing that we
had gotten beyond the Yankee column, which we knew
was pursuing and plundering on a parallel road. I had
hardly gotten to sleep when my faithful Buchhart
awakened me, crying, "The Yankees be upon thee,
Doctor." I had just time to escape, with two of my
comrades. Doctors Smith and Field, into a thicket of
dwarfed oaks, — "black jack," as it is called in that
section, and which is impenetrable by cavalry, — when
the enemy came down, whooping and yelling, with
clanking of sabres, and made for the artillery, which
was a few hundred yards to our rear. Immediately
there was a sharp firing of carbines and of artillery,
a rebel yell, and a hurried retreat of the troopers ; then
another charge, and an irregular discharge of field
pieces, and a general scattering as far as we could see.
We put ourselves at once farther from the field of
action, by retreating through the woods, and coming
to a high fence climbed over that, placing it as well
as the "black jack" between us and the enemy's horse.

jS4 Seveiity-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia

Darkness coming on, and ignorant as we were of the
topography of the country and the relative position of
the opposing forces, we thought it best to remain quiet-
ly and to lie down until daylight.

The next day, after we had fallen into the hands of
the enemy, we got a good account from some of our
fellow-prisoners of the affair of the night before. It
seems that the Yankee cavalry, grown careless by con-
stant and unresisted raids upon our stragglers and
trains, had charged down the road where they passed
us, — charged in column, — and that some of our ar-
tillerists, getting wind of what was coming, shotted
their guns to the muzzle with what relics of ammuni-
tion, grape, and canister they had, had opened on the
column at short range.

Sergeant Dibrell, of the Richmond Howitzers, who
served one of the guns, told me that the havoc was
dreadful. The Yankees were repelled, but seeing the
insignificance of the force arrayed against them, they
came back as assiduously as before, led by a bronzed
old major on a gray horse, who with many others met
his death with a reckless courage worthy of a better
cause. The second charge was successful ; the cavalry
running down the gunners, capturing some, whilst
others dodged into the woods, following the tactics of
the three surgeons. The casualties of our side were
few. Dr. Nash, however, of Norfolk, the surgeon of
one of the companies, got a pistol bullet in his face.

But returning to the fortunes of the three surgeons.
Awakening by daylight in the morning, we started
through a field adjoining our resting place, and took
the direction in which we supposed we could find our
people. With no compass but our wits, which were
not at all sharpened by the night's experience, we took
the wrong course, and in a few minutes walked upon
a vidette sitting quietly upon his horse, and apparently

The Surrender and Events Following 285

looking for news. Thinking that he was one of our
men, we approached him in a very friendly manner,
naively mentioned the fact that we were three lost
Confederate surgeons, and asked to be shown where
we would probably find Lee's lines. We started in
the direction indicated, when he snapped out a sud-
den "halt," and something equally persuasive — an ugly-
looking Colt's revolver of the regulation size, — and or-
dered us to come forward. We did so, and showing
his uniform under his cavalry overcoat, we perceived
that we were taken in. He gave at once a curt order,
"Right about, face; march quick!" We obeyed un-
hesitatingly, and strode forward in the opposite direc-
tion to "Lee's lines," our escort advising us to that
effect, and closely accompanying us, selecting me as
"next man" and keeping his pistol very unpleasantly
near my head. I ventured to remark that we were un-
armed, and that I doubted if it were necessary to keep
us so closely covered by his weapon, but he made no
reply.

We went hurriedly on over the rough ground, his
pistol bobbing up and down near the right side of my
head, and I really apprehended some danger of an ac-
cident, and said, "Sergeant, you will shoot me pres-
ently," to which he cheerfully replied, by way of al-
laying my fears, "I don't care a d n if I do!"

I said, "But, Sergeant, I do care very particularly;
it would be a very unpleasant death to be shot
here this cold morning, with so few witnesses of
my fortitude." But he did not change his conduct,
and I saw that any little irregularity of the ground caus-
ing his horse to stumble might send a bullet crashing
through my brain, and so I changed my tactics. I
reopened the conversation on a different scale, and
said, "Sergeant, those are poor spurs which you wear,
for so fine a trooper. I have in my overcoat pocket
a beautiful pair, made out of copper taken from the

-'86 Seventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

old Merriinac, which your people burned at the evacua-
tion of the navy yard at Norfolk. If you will permit
me to stop and get them out of my overcoat pocket,
I would like to make you a present of them." He
smiled, and said "All right." I took the spurs out of
my pocket, and handed them to him, and greatly to
my relief he put his pistol back in the holster. I valued
those spurs very highly, and if by chance my captor be
still alive and these few lines should fall under his eye, I
would take it as an especial favor if he would return
them to me; and I will forgive him for the scare which
he gave me that morning at Appomattox.

Well, our captor carried us to the picket lines, and
turned us over to General Devlin, who was afterwards
Attornev-Oeneral under Grant. He received us very
courteously, and on finding out who we were intro-
duced us to his surgeon, who was also very courteous ;
and knowing that we had not breakfasted, had coffee
served us, and regretted having "nothing more sub-
stantial to ofifer." Indeed, the whole staff was so kind
that we might have thought ourselves in no hostile
camp, but amongst friends, except for one little cir-
cumstance— one contretemps, which they no doubt re-
gretted as much as I did.

General Devlin was questioning me. asking, amongst
other things, "Why does not General Lee surrender?
How long is he going to keep up this foolishness? If
he falls back to Lynchburg, does he not know that he
cannot escape?" I replied to all of these by telling
him that I was not in General Lee's confidence ; that I
had not attended his council of war; and that I was
really unprepared to say what were his intentions. He
then asked me how many men, of all arms, General
Lee had left? How many prisoners he had with him?
What his position was, and what roads bore upon it?
and other questions of a similar character, which I

Tlie Surrender and Events Following 287

could not answer, and which I would not have answer-
ed if I could. I did say, however, for mischief, that
when I left the main body of the army there were more
prisoners than we had troops. This was not really
much of an exaggeration, and was received in good
humor, except by a dapper little officer who stepped
up and said, ''General Devlin, that fellow is lying to
you; he does not want to tell you." Such language
was not tolerated in the class to which I belonged at
that day, and to be called a "fellow," and to be told
that I was "lying!" I felt myself burning down into
my boots, and in resenting the insult probably very
soon should have made a fool of myself, had not the
General and several of his staff turned upon him with
such a look as to cause him to shrink back from de-
cent company. Very soon after, the General called
up an orderly and directed him to take us to the rear.
In a few minutes we reached the advanced lines of the
enemy. There we met General Sheridan, splendidly
mounted, and a number of officers with him, — his staff,
1 supposed, — all well dressed and with caparisoned
steeds, presenting a very different appearance from our

poor broken-down cavalry.

There was a large body of horse in an adjoining piece
of wood, and as Sheridan rode up they wer^ advanced
in line. Some one said, "Now, boys, you are going
to see something grand." A man near me said it was
General Sheridan who spoke. The infantry, of which
there seemed any number near by, and who, coming
up, jeered the troopers, as our men used to jeer them
sometimes, and said, "Oh, you will be back on us pret^
ty soon." And "pretty soon" they were back, many of
them, and we were hurried to the rear with the fugi-
tives, to prevent, as I was told afterwards, recapture
by Fitz Lee.

288 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

I was also told that Sheridan was not only repelled,
but lost two of his guns in less than five minutes.
There is abundant and authoritative evidence for this
statement, but Sheridan does not mention it in his
"Last afifair at Appomattox," nor does he speak of
having met me ! Before we had gone back more than
a mile we met a corps of infantry advancing, and then
seemingly another, the soldiers appearing to come out
of the ground, such were their numbers ; and I can
well believe that which history records — there were
75,000 of them! We were soon in the rear, as indi-
cated by the number of prisoners under guard; by
the hospital arrangements, and by a curious-looking
cooking affair on wheels, which we were told belonged
to the Christian Commission. This is all of the Chris-
tian Commission we ever saw. No doubt it had its
presence and its functions, but they were never de-
veloped under our observation,

W^ were marched up, and merged into the body of
prisoners, perhaps a thousand of them, and soon recog-
nized several of our friends, whose misfortunes had
antedated our own. Amongst them were Captain
Lassiter, of the Norfolk and Western Road, who had
been taken from his train, and Mr. S. L. Simpson, to
whom we soon became indebted for courtesies. Dur-
ing the afternoon the "Rebel" prisoners were marched
in a body, which had grown in size during the day, to
a piece of woods a few hundred yards distant. The
limits of the prisoner's camp were designated, the dead
lines drawn, and details of prisoners ordered to bring
in fence rails for fires, or temporary shelter ; and with
the instincts and ingenuity of old soldiers, many had
soon fixed themselves in tolerably comfortable quar-
ters. There was also a barn of splendid tobacco near
by, of which we were invited — by our enemies — to help
ourselves.

The Swrender and Hvents Following 289

The day passed (Sunday) and no rations of any sort
were served to the prisoners. My party, now reduced,
had dwindled down to three — Doctors Scott, Field, and
Claiborne. As we had had a cup of coffee at sunrise,
we were better ofif than most of the prisoners.

Monday forenoon; no rations were issued. Friend
Simpson, however, whose place in camp was very near
our own, came to us and divided with us some com-
pressed vegetable cake, and showed us how to make
a sort of a soup, and gave us a piece of cornbread, for
which we gave him grateful thanks, the only return in
our power. Late in the afternoon a beef, perhaps
more than one, was driven up and shot on the out-
skirts of the camp, and skinned and flayed on the
ground. Just so much of the hot and quivering flesh
was dispensed to each mess of the prisoners as our cap-
tors could spare, and found convenient, and one mem-
ber of each mess was sent under guard to get it. We
received ours with gladness, broiled a portion of it on
sticks before the fire, and having no closets or com-
missary chests into which to stow the balance, divided
it amongst ourselves, and each man placed his part
within his cap and slept with it. This was the only
safe place we had, and was not surely safe, at that, as
Capt. G., of Richmond, who bunked on the ground
near us, had both hat and rations stolen by some enter-
prising and hungry Rebel that night.

The next morning a Yankee soldier, who had been
in and out of our camp all day the day .before, asking
a thousand questions, and making himself a nuisance
generally, came to my mess, and singling me out,
brought me an invitation from a Dr. Richardson, of
New York, to breakfast with him, handing me at the
same time a permit to pass the lines and return on my
honor. How my Yankee friend discovered whom I
was, or to what I was indebted for this mark of distinc-

19 i

290 Seiriity-frre Years in Old J^irginia

tion, I could never find out. I found Dr. Richardson
with some half dozen other officers, — surgeons, quar-
termasters, etc., — all about to sit down to a substantial
breakfast of broiled pig, bread, and coffee, at an ex-
temporized table under the trees. They all received
me courteously, though there was no introduction, and
as we sat down the Doctor remarked, "Help yourself.
Doctor ; vour people furnished the menu. We have
no rations ; your Fitz Lee burned our wagon trains on
Sunday, and I don't know when you will get any more."
It is unnecessary to add that 1 made a square meal, and
having talked very pleasantly for a few minutes, both
sides avoiding subjects which might lead to discussion,
I thanked my stranger friend and returned to camp.

This was my last invitation. A portion of beef, just
killed, was issued to us every day, without bread.
Until Wednesday we did not know that General Lee
had surrendered, and then we could learn nothing of
the terms. The guards with whom we could speak
either knew nothing or did not care to tell. Indeed
they were a listless, careless set, who seemed to be
attending to their business in a mechanical, perfunctory
way, without any especial interest in affairs generally.
The prisoners continually jeered and guyed them, and
broke the dead line recklessly, without challenge or re-
buke, and I think that almost any Confederate could
have walked away who wished. Possibly some did.
But without money, without friends, and without ra-
tions, and knowing nothing of the country or the con-
dition of affairs, it was safer, the most of us supposed,
"to bear the ills we had than to fiv to others we knew
not of."

But on Thursday afternoon a change came. An offi-
cer appeared in the camp, and ordered the officers to be
enrolled and mustered ready to march. I noticed that
the adjutant of the guard, who was making preparation

The Surrender and Events FoUozving 291

to get us off, wore on the lapel of his coat a Masonic
emblem, so as soon as I could get an opportunity I gave
him the "sign of distress." He came to me and asked
"what he could do for me." I repHed by asking "what
he was going to do for us." He said that the "officers
would be sent to Fort Lafayette." Then I said, "I do
not wish to go. I have a family refugeeing somewhere
in North Carolina, — a wife and four children, — and I
would greatly prefer to go to them." He seemed to
think it not unreasonable, and said that "he would do
anything for me not inconsistent with his honor as a
soldier," and asked upon what plea I could hope to be
released. I said that I was a non-combatant, as- well
as my two friends who stood in line next to me.
"Were you the surgeons who were captured with some
artillery on last Saturday evening when your men
played such havoc with our cavalry?" I told him that
we were, but that we had not pulled a lanyard or fired
a gun. "Well, he replied, "you were taken with
fighting men. You were in bad company and will have
to take your chances with them." He came to me
again, however, after a little while and told me that all
of the men and officers who were captured within so
many miles of Appomattox Court House, and within
so many hours of the surrender, were entitled to their
parole. "If that be so," I said, "then not only are we
three surgeons, but there are here more than eighty
men of Grade's Alabama Brigade, with their colonel,
who are entitled to it." (These men, I think, had kept
up their fire some little time after the surrender,
ignorant, of course, of such ; but I saw no necessity to
add this information.) Calling up the Colonel, a gea-
tleman by the name of Saunders, I think, I put him in
communication with the officer of the guard. My
adjutant friend then produced pen, ink, and paper, and
directed me to make a statement of the case, which he

292 Sci'cnty-fii'c Years in Old Virginia

forwarded immediately to General Meade. In an hour
or two an order came that eighty-four of us, including
Gracie's Brigade, should be sent back to Appomattox
Court House and report to General Bartlett, to be
paroled.

Accordingly we were marched back to Appomattox
Court House, under guard, in the rain and in the dark,
and halted in front of the headquarters of General Bart-
lett. The General sent for Colonel Saunders and my-
self, and received us very kindly. After talking with
us a few minutes, he called an orderly, and directed him
to pass us through the pickets, and to direct us where
we would find General Field to receive our paroles.
The orderly did so, and after passing us through the
picket lines, told us to pursue the road before us until
we came to Confederate camps. As far as the "road
before us" was concerned, it had as well been the "road
behind us," for the darkness was Cimmerian, but we
trudged along, sometimes in the road and sometimes
out of it, as far as we could judge. We soon became
separated from our friends of the Alabama brigade, and
I never saw them again. I dare say that they spent the
night safely somewhere, and got back home safely some
time.

Dr. Field, and Smith, and I somehow drifted out of
the road, and seeing a light a short way ofT, went for it,
and found that it shone from the window of quite a
respectable-looking house. We advanced, and knock-
ing at the door, which was opened for a few inches
only, announced our rank, and asked permission to
enter and spend the night. A very curt reply informed
us that the house was already full of soldiers, wounded
and otherwise, and informed us, as one who spake with
authority, that we had better move on. We never
knew whether our ungracious speaker was friend or
foe, but a man who at that time spoke with the tone

The Surrender and Events Follozving 293

which he assumed had doubtless some means of enforc-
ing his orders, and we left without discussing the sub-
ject.

A few minutes after leaving the house, and getting
well out into the darkness, we lay down to rest; but
such a baptism, by pouring, as the clouds gave us, was
not made the more saving by taking it on the ground,
and we arose and moved on again for several hundred
yards, in what direction we knew not, for we had lost
our bearings. We discovered also that we had lost our
third man, Dr. Smith ; but it was useless to attempt to
look for him then. Besides, wherever he was, he was
in no worse plight than we were, so Dr. Field and I
moved on again. We soon fell over one or two mounds
of fresh earth, which we instinctively felt to be graves,
and nearly stumbled upon the porch of a small house,
the door of which we took to be open, for the reason
that the darkness was darker in that direction than in
any other. I said to Dr. Field, "Let us go in; here at
least we can find shelter." It was a weird-looking
place, I confess, but I repeated, "Let us go in." My
comrade drew back, saying, "That is a dangerous look-
ing place," to which I replied, "That from you beats all.
The gamest boy and man [I had been his schoolmate
and seen him tried] I ever saw, and now for you to talk
about being afraid, borders on the ludicrous ; besides,
what have you got to lose except your life, and what
is that worth? Come on." As we entered the door
there came to my nostrils that inefifable smell of gore
which no man can fail to recognize who has passed
through the experiences of four years of a bloody war.
Striking a match from a box which I carried in my
pocket, sure enough we found ourselves in a field hos-
pital, which had been utilized doubtless only a few days
before during the last light at Appomattox. There
were the bloody clothes which had been cut off from the

294 Src'ciity-fiir Years in Old Virgitiia

poor wounded fellows, the straw upon which they lay,
a table, and even an open Anatomy, from which some
surgeon had evidently been refreshing himself during
the work of mutilation.

Well, we were at home, and there was no one to dis-
pute our right. We utilized the straw and a broken
chair to kindle a fire in the large open fireplace, and
lay down to warm and to sleep, but were soon awakened
by a large wasp's nest falling upon us. The house, I
suppose, had not been inhabited for some time, and the
wasps had taken possession and built their nest in the
chimney. We were not long in getting up and getting
rid of our new^ enemies, fortunately without a sting, and
soon lay down again and slept until morning. We
made a breakfast, as soon as we were awakened by the
daylight, from some hard tack which Dr. Field had
bought from one of our guards the night before, in ex-
change for a ring. It had been softened somewhat by
the night's rain, and though wrapped in an old hand-
kerchief of the Doctor's which had been innocent of the
laundry for some days, was enjoyed with a zest real on
that occasion, but difficult to understand at this lapse of
time.

On coming out from our quarters we found Dr. Smith
not far ofif, who said he had passed the night sitting up
under a tree — not for the first time either, as he was an
old campaigner. He had discovered the route to our
destination. Taking up the trail then, we resumed
our tramp. We soon found out that we w^ould have to
cross the Appomattox River to reach the camp of
General Field, to whom we were ordered to report for
the purpose of being paroled. By the terms of the
"surrender" the Confederate generals were required to
parole the men under their respective commands on
paroles which were printed by the Federal authorities
on an extemporized press at Appomattox. We were

The Surrender and Bz'eiils folloiciiig 295

ordered to report to General Field, not that we be-
longed to his command, but because he was the only-
officer left of that rank who had not been able to get
the printed parole up to that time, on account of some
accident to the press.

On reaching the Appomattox River, which was but
an insignificant creek when we crossed it the Saturday
before, we found it swollen by continuous rains into
quite a respectable stream. As there was neither bridge
nor ferry, however, we waded in without the formality
of undressing. The water did not reach . much above
the knees, and we felt no inconvenience from our morn-
ing bath. On following our route some half mile from
the river, we came upon a group of Confederates
breaking camp and about to take up the march home-
ward. Strangely enough, I knew every one of them,
and in company with all save one I had commenced my
military career four years before, lacking four days.
The group consisted of General Mahone and staff,
Major J. A. Johnston, Major O. H. P. Corprew, Capt.
Samuel Stevens, Capt. Hamilton J. Stone, Capt. John
R. Patterson, Quartermaster-Sergeant W. Edward
Spotswood, and two orderlies. I only knew one of the
latter, a young Kentuckian, by the name of Blakeman.
who had gotten himself the soubriquet of "The Bravest
of the Brave." As we reached the group, all of whom
were well mounted and ready to move off, General Ma-
hone accosted me, "Well, where in h — have you been?"
"A cooler place than that," I said ; "I am just out of a
mud hole." "You look like it," he replied, and I ex-
pect that I did. If any old soldier should read these
lines who was detained at Appomattox several days af-
ter the surrender, long enough to encounter the rain
that wept over our defeat, he will bear testimony to
the mud, and to the slipperiness of the roads.

296 S event y-five Years in Old Virginia

During- the night before, under the forced march
to freedom our Yankee escort had taken mischievous
pleasure in hurrying the prisoners, and how often I
had fallen, and how often I was ordered "to get up,
Johnnie," with a bayonet unpleasantly near my person,
I cannot recount. But there was no time to discuss
the present circumstances, and I said, "Boys, you are
not going to leave me?" Mahone then said, "Did I
not tell you not to leave Mahone's Division ? Now you
see what has come of it." "Yes; but. General, what be-
came of your surgeon. Wood?" "Oh, that fellow got
shot." I knew that myself, because I had seen him
grievously wounded ; and he had asked me to take care
of his watch and instruments. But the enemy had been
very good to him, had given him his ambulance, or an
ambulance and mules, and I told him that he was safer,
and would get out of trouble more surely than I, which
was true. I heard that he made his way to Fincastle,
Virginia, where he lived for many years afterwards.

Mahone then asked me if I was paroled, and that if I
were, said he would take me home with him. I told
him that I was not, but that with my two friends, and
some sixty or eighty of his old Alabama brigade, I had
been released, after we had been mustered for Fort
Lafayette, and ordered to report to General Field to be
paroled. He told me that I would find General Field
about a mile down the road, but that I would have to
show a blank parole. Captain Patterson produced one
from somewhere, and the General, dismounting, bade
me take his horse and ride down to General Field's
camp, and get him to sign it, promising by the time
that I returned he would have some means ready to
take me home with him. We tried to find two other
blanks for Dr. Field and Dr. Smith, but could not find
another.

The Surrender and Events Folloiving 297

1 lost no time in getting to General Field's headquar-
ters, and as his was the only tent I saw, I had no
difficulty in finding him. At the door of the tent was
Captain P., of Richmond, an ordnance officer in his
command, whom I knew very well, having been a fel-
low-student of his at the University of Virginia. He
bade me get down, and giving my bridle to a soldier,
took me into the tent and introduced me to General
Field. My reception was anything else than cordial,
but I was not prepared for what followed. I told him in
as few words as possible that, with two other surgeons,
and some sixty or eighty men of an Alabama brigade, I
had been released from a prisoner's camp the night be-
fore and ordered to report to him to be paroled ; that I
had been fortunate enough to meet my friend General
Mahone, who, giving me a blank parole, and loaning me
his horse, had requested me to get his signature to it, as
he wished to take me home with him. He heard me
through, and then getting up (he was lying down), he
went to the door of the tent, and putting aside a blanket
that hung over the entrance to it, he said, "Do you see
those poor men shivering in the rain, and scattered
about in bivouac under those bushes? That is the re-
mains of Field's Division. The Yankee press at the
Court House is broken down, and I cannot tell when I
can get any paroles, but until those poor men are pa-
roled and sent away, you will remain here." "That is
hard upon me. General," I said. "I am sorry for those
poor men, but we have all suffered enough to give us
some fellow-feeling for each other, and should be glad
to have an opportunity of getting any one soldier out
of trouble. I have this parole, and only await your
signature to get me ofT, and to enable me to go home."
"I shall not do it," he said. "As you please, General," I
replied, and touching my cap, bowed myself out, de-
termined to go with Mahone any way, even had I to

298 Scz'cnly-/l:'i' }'cars in Old Jlrgiiiia

sign the parole myself. He called me back from the
door and said, "Let me see that parole." He took it
from my hand, and after reading it, picked up a pen
from his table and wrote "C. F., Major-General." That
was enough Without awaiting further negotiations, or
giving him an opportunity of changing his mind, I was
off. But just as I mounted Mahone's horse to return.
Capt. P. said to me, "Claiborne, can you get me one
of those blank paroles?" I replied, "Captain, there
was not one that we could find at IMahone's camp when
I left ; but if there were any I left two comrades there
who would have first choice of them." "That is the
way of the world," he said ; "you are out of trouble now
and are willing to leave an old comrade and college-
mate, perishing of hunger and cold, the streams rising
behind us, and no means of rehef." This was spoken
with tears in his voice and with a sadness that I have
never been able to dismiss from my memory. Until I
looked down from my saddle into the face of that brave
man, I never realized what cold and hunger and hope-
lessness could bring one to. I said, "Do not talk so, P.
Get on your horse, and go with me to Mahone, and if
one parole can be produced for love or money, you shall
have it." He did so, and we rode rapidly back to Ma-
hone's camp; but after searching, no parole could be
found, and my friend turned ofT and rode slowly back
into what seemed literally the night of despair.

Drs. Field and Smith, after hearing of my interview
with General Field, declined to report to him, and went
back to the Court House, getting permission from
General Bartlett to go back to Petersburg; riding on
the railroad when the trains were running, and walking
when the road was obstructed or torn up. I cannot
think that the paroles amounted to anything.

General Mahone and his cavalcade, including myself,
immediately left, and though we passed many Federals

The Surrender and Bz'ents FoUon'ing 299

before we got well under way to Charlotte Court
House, our destined stopping place for that night, no
one ever asked to see a parole. Riding all day, just be-
fore sunset — cold, hungry, and tired — we came when
within a few miles of Charlotte Court House upon a
fine old country mansion in a grove of oaks, surrounded
by every evidence of luxury and w^ealth. Turkeys,
chickens, and other fowls; sheep, lambs, pigs, etc.,
roamed about the large lots, making a soldier's mouth
water, and a corn crib, almost bursting out with the
rich grain, stood in our way as we neared the mansion,
evincing the fact that ruthless war had not visited that
vicinity at least, and we thought, "What a haven for a
tired and hungry Confederate soldier. No doubt but
what we shall find comfort and welcome here." Gen-
eral Mahone directed his quartermaster, Major John-
ston, to ride forward and ask the owner to allow us to
remain all night, and say that we would need two
rooms, with fire, supper for our party of seven, with
corn and forage for our horses, and pay in gold (I sup-
pose jMahone had some) ; and besides that our presence
might insure safety and protection against stragglers.
The Major rode forward, but soon returned, meeting
us with evident disappointment, and reported, "Gen-
eral, Mrs. E. owns and lives at this place, and says
that we can not stop here ; that she does not want any
soldiers about her, and that we must move on." The
General replied in laconic style and with some impa-
tience, "The Devil ! Johnston, I have no doubt that you
have made a mess of it. Dr. Claiborne, will you go to
Mrs. E. and tell her who we are, and engage for us
what we wish." "All right, sir," I said, and started on
my mission, fully confident of a graceful and cordial re-
ception.

I rode up, dismounted at the yard gate, tied my horse
to the rack (which was at that time a feature of the

300 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia

landscape never omitted from the picture of a planter's
home), went into the yard, and was met by a dignified
and most respectable negro man, past middle age, and
whom I recognized at once as the dining-room servant,
gardener, butler, and factotum generally, that illustrat-
ed and adorned in those days every old Virginia man-
sion, and who invariably met the visitor and showed him
to the house. This colored gentleman, with the grace
and dignity of manner which such servants of a gentle-
man's house in old Virginia caught from constant con-
tact and association with gentlemen, a character which
is now almost extinct and which never can be repro-
duced, met me and said, "My mistress, Mrs. E., is a wid-
ow, sah ; receives no company, and asks that you will ex-
cuse her." I should have retired at those words, but I
had some pride in filling my mission, and I told him that
my business was urgent ; that times were troublous, and
that it would probably be better for his mistress to see
me. With an apology for not taking me to the front
door, he carried me around to the rear of the house, and
just as I was about to go up the steps of a long portico
leading into the house, Mrs. E. appeared at the top
of the steps, with an acrid voice, indicative of an acerb-
ity of manner which her appearance did not belie, and
said, "Do not come up those steps, we want no soldiers
here." I apologized in a most polite phrase for my
intrusion ; said that I had no idea of entering her house
without permission, but that General Mahone, with his
staff, on his way home from the surrender of Lee's
army, tired and cold, was approaching her premises,
and begged gracious permission to remain all night;
that he would like to have supper for the party, and
forage for the horses, and that he would pay cheerfully
in gold for everything he had, besides protecting her
]M-emises. which were exposed to the depredations of
stragglers. "No, no," she said, "you cannot stop here."

The Surrender and Events Follozving 301

I was as tired as a man could well be, and I did not feel
like going any farther, and thought I would try the pa-
triotic and sentimental, so I said, "Madam, do you se-
riously propose to deny the rights of hospitality in an
old Virginia home to one of the most famous generals
and his stafif ; men who for four long years have fought
your battles, and placed themselves as a living wall be-
tween yourself and the Northern vandals who have
come down to seize your property and slay your peo-
ple?" "I do," was her brief and unmistakable reply; "I
don't know you, or General Mahone, nor ever heard of
either of you before, and I want you to leave." "Never
heard of either of us before!" What is fame? I re-
turned to the General somewhat crestfallen, I confess,
but Johnston was the only man who enjoyed my dis-
comfiture.*

General Mahone remarked that it would be serving
her right to encamp on her lawn, take what we wanted,
and pay for nothing; but that it would be a bad ex-
ample for us to set, especially in such lawless times,
and that we must go on to Charlotte Court House, four
miles. It was the longest four miles that ever I rode,
and we were all pretty well fagged-out by the time we
reached there. We were too many in our party to
foist ourselves upon one house, and so we separated
into two sections. General Mahone, Major Johnston,
Capt. Patterson, and myself going to Mr. Selden's,
formerly of Westover, on the James River, but who
had taken his family to Charlotte Court House soon
after the war commenced, as it was not believed that
the Yankees would find that delectable village. The
faith of the public was proven wise. For the same rea-
son General Mahone had sent his family to refugee in

*I must do Virginia, and this Virginia woman, the justice to say
that I heard afterwards that she was eccentric, almost to the degree
of irresponsibility.

302 Scvcnty-five Years in Old Virginia

Clarksville, Virginia. It was not believed that any
Yankee would reach that riparian city, and one never
did, during the war. On going to Mr. Selden's we
found him not at home, but Mrs. Selden was, and re-
ceived us as only a patriotic Virginia woman could re-
ceive a soldier; gave us a supper of hot rolls, broiled
chicken, and coffee — and such rolls, such chicken, and
such coffee ! The savor of that supper has never died
away from my senses. After supper Mrs. Selden's
daughters, and one or two other young ladies, received
us in the parlor ; and Captain Patterson introduced me
as Dr. Claiborne, of Petersburg, "the glass of fashion
and the mould of form." As I had not washed my face
and hands, or combed my head, or made my toilet for
ten days, and was muddy to my blinkers, I felt that I
was being trifled with, but I made my best obeisance,
took a proffered chair and distinguished myself by im-
mediately going to sleep in their presence. They were
considerate enough to ask us to our rooms at an early
hour.

And now a very serious question arose which I feared
might cause some unpleasantness. There were two
beds in the room for us four. Mahone and I were
bunked together. I had not had the opportunity of
taking off my long cavalry boots for thirteen days, and
during that time they had been so often wet and dried
that they were literally moulded to my feet, and it
seemed almost impossible to remove them without cut-
ting them off. And to have sacrificed a pair of boots
at that time without any earthly prospects of getting
another pair, was just a little less of folly than the sacri-
fice of the feet themselves. General Mahone, and then
my other comrades, refused to sleep with me with my
boots on, to say nothing of the scandalous impropriety
of occupying one of Mrs. Selden's beds in such foot
gear. A negro servant was summoned and the situa-

The Sitrreitdcr and Events PoUoiving 303

tion explained to him, and he guaranteed relief. After
dragging me over the room several times, encouraged
by the cheers of my companions, who saw more fun in
the operation than I did, he finally succeeded in getting
them off, and I slept with Mahone, for the first time
and the last time in my life. The next morning Mrs.
Selden sent us in a box of paper collars, the first I had
ever seen ; and with our faces washed, hair combed,
clothes brushed, and collars on, we made quite a decent
appearance. After breakfast, taking leave of our kind
hostess, and gathering our little party together, we
made a start on another day's journey.

Mahone, Corprew, Blakeman and I directed our
course to Clarksville, Virginia, whilst others of the
party turned their steps toward Petersburg. We
reached Clarksville about dark, had a warm reception
from Mrs. Mahone, as may well be imagined, and after
a nice hot supper, went to bed — I, for one, more dead
than alive. 1 had not only endured all the fatigue, ex-
posure, and peril of the retreat, but my Rosinante,
which I had ridden rapidly for two long days, was the
roughest-riding animals which I had ever backed. It
was equal to riding on a wooden horse. This Avas Sat-
urday night, following the surrender, and it seemed to
me that the events of a life time had been crowded into
that short week. It was almost impossible to realize
the changes that I had witnessed in that time ; and the
greatest marvel was seeing General Mahone sitting
down in peace, playing with his children — the soldier
whom one week before I had left at the head of his
ragged veterans in fierce and hopeless fight. Sunday
morning I was too sick to get up, but with the kindly
ministrations of Mrs. Mahone, I was on my feet Mon-
day morning, and Blakeman and I, the last paladins of
our little group that left Appomattox together, about
jnidday parted, he taking to th? left to seek the home

304 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

of an aunt in Mecklenburg County, Virginia, and I the
road to the right leading in the direction of Louisburg,
North Carolina, where my wife and children had been
refugeeing during the most of the war. About night I
reached Ridgeway, North Carolina, and found hospit-
able accommodations at the home of Dr. J., an old
friend and college-mate.

The next morning I took the road to Louisburg,
North CaroHna, about twenty-five miles distant. Dur-
ing the day I met many of Lee's old soldiers, trudging
their weary way homewards to different portions of
the State — also several very fine teams belonging to
the quartermaster's department, which had been out for
weeks foraging, but whose drivers seemed to be at sea
as to what they should do or where they should go.
One man, a quartermaster's sergeant, had a splendid
team of four mules, and said he had been for two weeks
foraging and was just ready to go back to the army
when the news of Lee's surrender came to him. He
begged me to take the wagon and team and give him
a receipt, and said he was going to leave them that day
or the next with anybody who would take them, and
make his way home afoot the best that he could. He
lived in one of the far Southern States. Of course I
had no more right to the team than he, and no more
use for it, and I declined. About midday I came to a
camp which had undoubtedly been left only a few hours,
maybe the night before, and amongst the odds and
ends which had been abandoned was a bolt of fine im-
ported jeans. This was left by accident, I presume, but
I picked it up and tied it behind my saddle. From this
was fabricated the only underclothing that I had for
weeks, all of my clothes having been burned or lost
during the retreat to Appomattox. About six o'clock
in the afternoon T reached Louisburg, and rode up to
the house where T had sent my wife and children two

The Surrender and Events Following 305

years before, and soon had my loved ones in my arms.
Four years before, almost to a day, I had taken them
in my arms at Petersburg, my home, and giving them
a last kiss and "God bless you," had gone out with my
comrades and compatriots to the war, with brilliant
uniforms and flying banners; with heart full of hope, if
full of sorrow; with no fear of defeat, and no reckon-
ing but that we should save to them, if not to ourselves,
our fair Southern land — a heritage the best that Heaven
ever gave. And now alone, ragged, unaccompanied by
one single comrade ; unheralded, without country, with-
out home, without bread, without faith, I was before
them, even a stranger to my little children ! I leave
the picture. Let some other finish it. The war was
over — the war with men ; but not over with that skulk-
ing crew of cowards and carpet-baggers which followed
in its wake, nor with that foul flock of harpies who,
hovering over the little left for starving women and
children, polluted it with their noisome stench.

The hardships and exposure of the two weeks past
and the hopelessness of the future brought on an at-
tack of sickness, and I was detained for nearly a month
at the home of the gentleman with whom I had boarded
my family for two years. I had fortunately paid their
board in kind, as it was termed then — that is, in bacon
and flour — to about the middle of June ; but as soon as
1 was able I went to Raleigh, seeking some opportu-
nity of getting back to Petersburg and of further pro-
viding for my family. On reaching Raleigh I found
an old friend and fellow-townsman, Mr. Thomas
Branch, who had been refugeeing with his family in
that city for a year or more. He took me to his hos-
pitable house, where with him and his estimable wife I
found good cheer. His house was filled with strangers,
representatives of both armies — but there was no ripple
of trouble between us. One of my room-mates was

3o6 Screnty-five Years in Old Virginia

the Federal General Ames, of Massachusetts, who
had distinguished himself at the taking of the forts be-
low Wilmington. Like another Massachusetts General,
Bartlett, he was especially kind and generous. A large
body of Federal troops were quartered in Raleigh at
the same time, but they, too, seemed especially quiet,
and considerate of the feelings of the citizens. Having
no other clothes, I was compelled to wear my uniform,
and I never passed a Federal sentinel that he did not
face about and present arms — a considerate attention
which I entirely appreciated.

I told Mr. Branch that I was seeking some means of
getting home to Petersburg, and taking my family
there. He handed fifty dollars in o-old to one of his
younger sons, and bade him go to some place in the
city and exchange it for greenbacks. He turned the
proceeds over to me, which was the first dollar of
Federal currency I ever had. Before I could get away
from Louisburg, the place where my family had been
refugeeing, a corps of the Federal Army passed
through the town en route to Washington, to which
place the whole army had been ordered to rendezvous
for a grand review before they were disbanded or mus-
tered out. They made a halt, or a part of them, several
days in Louisburg, and a General Heth and his staff en-
camped in the yard of the gentleman's house at which
we were staying. They held themselves apart from
the inmates of the house, and placed a safeguard in
charge of it. He was a poor miserable young boy. in
feeble health, who, if he was armed, did not know where
his gun was for half the time, and took great pleasure
in playing with my children, insisting on dividing with
them whatever he could get of anything good which
would tempt them, and they were not very fastidious.
I do not think that they had seen a particle of confec-

The Surrender and Events Follozuing 307

tionery for more than two years. The children of any
house were fortunate at that day to get enough of the
plainest food.

A disagreeable incident occurred, however, before
the Federal troops moved on ; and one which threat-
ened to get us into trouble. There were several ladies
staying in the house, and as was usual these took no
pains to appear before the soldiers or oflEicers, or to
conciliate them when compelled to be in their presence.
On the contrary, they did not hesitate to show by word
and manner more than a mild dislike. At the same time
there was staying in the house a clergyman, a man of
distinction in his calling, who had been quite noted, be-
fore the enemy came, for blatant abuse of the "Yankee,"
even in a manner not becoming a preacher of peace and
righteousness. But when brought face to face with the
verities of the present situation his views most sud-
denly and radically changed. One morning after
breakfast, in the parlor with several ladies, he made
himself very offensive to them, telling them that by
such fools as they the whole trouble had been brought
on ; and that they would deserve no better than any
indignity which the soldiers chose to inflict upon them.
I happened to enter the room just as he was delivering
himself of his pastoral talk, and seeing my wife amongst
the ladies, requested her to withdraw, which she did,
followed by the rest of them. I then closed the door
and opened upon my clerical companion in language, I
fear, even less chaste, and more decidedly expressive,
than his reverence had indulged in ; ending with a
threat that if he opened his lips I would smash him
and pitch him out of the window down upon his Yankee
friends, who were just under it. Seeing that he was a
brawny Irishman of nearly twice my weight, this was
merely a briiHim fiilmen, and it was well for me perhaps
that he did not give me an occasion to attempt to put

3o8 Scventy-Uve Years in Old Virginia

my threat in execution. The proprietor of the house
coming in at the time, I apologized for "making a fuss
in his parlor" ; but I had only time to speak a few words
when General Heth, to whom his reverence had imme-
diately reported me, sent an orderly to invite me to call
at his tent. As it was my first invitation to headquar-
ters, and partook, moreover, somewhat of the character
of an order, I obeyed promptly. The General inquired
what the trouble was about, and I gave him, candidly,
the whole story. He only replied that he had no doubt
but that my provocation was great, but suggested not
very mildly himself, "that I have no further diflficulty."
The troops and my clerical friend both left the next
day, and "there was no further dif^culty."

In a few days I received a message from Mr. Branch
to join him at Franklinton, the station for Louisburg
at that time, and that we could get as far as Ridgeway
on the Raleigh and Gaston road, and then he would
have a carriage which would take us across the country
to Petersburg, or rather to Blacks and Whites, now
Blackstone, on the Norfolk and Western road, from
which point the road was open to Petersburg. On get-
ting to Ridgeway we found the carriage to be a wagon
and two horses, and a riding-horse awaiting us. With
Mr. Branch was one of his younger sons, I have forgot-
ten which one ; Mr. David Lyon, of this city, and the
colored driver. In this company I began my pilgrim-
age home, or to the place which I called home some
four years before, well knowing that there was no home
left me ; but with a brave heart to build me another one
there or somewhere, and to gather again under one
roof my loved ones driven away by the cruel fortunes of
war.

On the second night of our transit across the coun-
try we reached a Mr. Haskins's, in Lunenburg County,
and received a generous welcome. As this was only

The Surrender and Events Pollozving 309

some twelve or fifteen miles distant from my father's,
in the County of Brunswick, Mr. Branch kindly loaned
me his riding-horse the following day, and I left my
fellow voyagers, they going on to Blackstone and I to
Roslin, the residence of my father. As my father had
not seen me in many months, and as he had not heard
from me since the close of the war and knew nothing
of my fate, the joyous surprise with which he received
me may be imagined, perhaps, but not described. Of
his other son, who was an assistant surgeon in the navy,
he had heard nothing, and knew nothing until he turned
up as suddenly and unexpectedly in the month of July
following. Only a few mails had been reestablished, and
communication between points out of the regular
routes was slow and uncertain.

After spending a few days with my father, and wit-
nessing the finale of the old regime, when he called his
slaves together and announced to them that they were
free — free to remain with him as hired servants or to
seek their fortunes elsewhere, I mounted Mr. Branch's
horse, and riding over to Blackstone left him with Mr.
Richard Irby, and took the first train for Petersburg.
On the train, which was many hours late, — a tardiness,
I may mention, which seems to have characterized the
train from the west on the N. & W. road even to this
day, — I found several hundred Yankee soldiers mak-
ing their way North. The coaches and open cars were
crowded, and many of the soldiers were noisy, and of-
fensive in manner to the few Confederates who hap-
pened to be passengers. Mr. Williams T. Davis, of this
city, and Major Boggs, of the Confederate artillery,
were amongst the Confederates near me. One Httle
Yankee lieutenant made himself conspicuously offen-
sive, especially to Major Boggs. The Major had been
a Methodist circuit rider before the war in the Virginia
Conference, and though not a Southern man had

3 10 Sez'enty-five Years in Old Vi?'gitiia

doffed the black for the garb of gray, and as a major of
artillery had given four years of hard fighting for the
cause of the Confederacy. As he had not yet had op-
portunity of putting off the gray, he still retained the
spirit militant, and arose to administer to the youth a
punishment not prescribed by army regulations. But
several of us interfered, and with the help of some Fed-
eral ofBcers of high rank, declared peace. We were in
too decided a minority for any other mode of settle-
ment.

CHAPTER VI

Events Foiaowing the War.

My Dog Again— I Am Warned to Leave Petersburg — Make a Pur-
chase and Start for Louisburg, N. C. — Back Again and to Work
— The Condition of the South Before the War An Anomaly of
Content and Happiness— The Military Government— The Carpet-
Bag Government and Its Curse — Opinions of Some Eminent
Northerners on the Reconstruction Period — Will History Re-
produce Itself in the Philippines — The Evidence of Robbery.

On reaching Petersburg the first person that met me
was Jack, my Scotch terrier, who had deserted during
the retreat from Petersburg, and whom I had given up
for lost. His expressions of joy in his mute language
were pitifully effusive, and for the few days during
which I remained in the city he could not be induced to
leave me for a minute. Whether repentance for for-
saking me, or fear of falling into other and less gracious
company again, actuated him, I cannot tell ; but he al-
ways had a wonderful amount of human nature mingled
with his canine character. I went to the home of my
brother-in-law, Colonel A. C. Butts, who was living on
Lawrence Street at that time in the house now occu-
pied by Mr. Alexander Wilson, and asked for quarters,
which were cheerfully granted me. I had only been
there a short time when I was waited on by one of my
old servants, the mother of Romulus, who was captured
during the retreat. She begged me to leave the city at
once, saying that several Federal soldiers had been to
her house repeatedly, and to the houses of other of my
servants, looking for me, and that they would murder
me if they could find me. I paid but little attention to
what she said, thinking that the Yankees were only

312 Seventy-five IVor^ in Old Virginia

playing on her fears. But the next day a lady sent for
me who had been thrown in company with the Federal
troops a good deal, having had friends amongst them,
and she begged me to leave as soon as possible ; and
not only that, but begged me to go to General Cadmus
Wilcox, who she said was staying at Mrs. Robert Dun-
lop's, on FrankHn Street, and to get him away. She
vouchsafed the information, moreover, that we had been
selected by the soldiers of a certain Northern regiment
to be shot in revenge for the death of their colonel,
whom they avowed had been bushwhacked and killed
somewhere near Richmond since the surrender of Lee.
She stated this with a minuteness of detail and with an
array of evidence which led me to believe that there
was some truth in it. I went to Mrs. Dunlop's, but
General Wilcox had left the city ; whether on account
of anything he had heard of this matter, I know not. 1
told my lady friend that I would be glad to go if it were
at all practicable, but that I had nowhere to go and no
money to go with. It was my intention to go to North
Carolina and take my family to my father's in Bruns-
wick County, Virginia, until I could get to work again
at my profession.

Going out the next morning, I met on the street a
friend who had just bought a pair of horses and an am-
bulance, all in good condition, from a Federal sutler;
and, telling him my story, asked him to let me have
them. I told him very candidly that I had no money,
but that I should have some as soon as I could get to
work, and he generously turned the team over to me,
and took my note for the amount of the purchase. As
it was impossible for me to get out of the city that
day, I went to the Federal Provost Marshal, whose of-
fice was at the Petersburg Railroad depot, and Colonel
Potts, the ticket agent, who it seems had made a
friend of him, introduced me and vouchsafed for my

Events Following the War 313

character I recounted the peculiar circumstances of
my case, and told the Provost Marshal that I was get-
ting ready to leave the city and go in search of my fam-
ily in North Carolina, ,and that in view of the general
condition of affairs I thought that I might be allowed
to arm myself. He readily consented, and gave me
written authority to procure arms and to use them in
defense of myself if necessary. I have that paper now
— the most remarkable paper, I imagine, ever given by

a provost marshal to a paroled prisoner signed '' ,

Lieut. Colonel, Artillery," Of course, had I been

attacked it would have proven of but little avail, ex-
cept to enable me to sell my Hfe dearly, and to carry
an enemy or two with me on my last campaign.

During the day I found one of my old servants,
George Washington, and with him as driver, and Jack
as passenger, we made an early start the next morning
for Louisburg, North Carolina, where I had left my
family. On the evening of the first day of our travel we
reached my father's, who insisted on adding to my
retinue his carriage and driver, and my bringing my
family to his house and leaving them there until I could
get a foothold again in Petersburg. This generous of-
fer was gratefully accepted. As he had never been
plundered, or his house visited, except twice by Federal
raiders, who were hurriedly driven off by pursuit of our
cavalry, he had suffered but little, and not a slave had
left him. He had no money, as no one in the country
had any; but food for man and beast was abundant,
and the crops were luxuriant, as if sent by Providence
to supply our wants in such times of need. We made
the trip to Louisburg and back without incident, in less
than a week, bringing my wife and four children — the
oldest only nine years old. The children enjoyed the
travel through the country greatly, and I think were
disappointed when they reached their grandfather's and

314 Screiity-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia

found that their wanderings were over, I left them
with their grandfather and his wife, my step-mother,
an excellent woman, who made for them a happy home
until I had accumulated enough to send for them to
come to me.

On reaching Petersburg my lady friend informed me
that the regiment to which the soldiers belonged who
had threatened my life, had left for the North and that
the coast was clear. I proceeded to resume "work at
the old stand," though not at the old house — that had
gone into other hands ; and opened an office in con-
junction with Dr. J. J. Thweatt, and old friend and kins-
man. Declining the many invitations to share the scant
rations of my friends, I rented a room near our office
for one dollar a week, paid a young lady in the house
a dollar a week to take care of it, and bought me some
tea, and crackers, and cheese. The same lady who took
care of my room, made my tea, and for two weeks set
out my humble menu. At the end of that time, gradu-
ally getting a little money from my practice, I took the
liberty of indulging myself in a little dinner at some one
of the many cheap restaurants with which the city was
crowded, to catch the hundreds of soldiers and strag-
glers and sight-seers that abounded on the streets. But
my breakfast and supper were of the same frugal pro-
vision. At the end of a month Dr, Thweatt and I
thought we would combine, and constituting the office
servant as cook, indulge ourselves in a more generous
fare. In less than a month, hov^^ever, we found that our
joint finances would not justify two liberal meals a day,
so we returned to our economies.

In the meantime, Mr. James B. Jones, of Chesterfield,
an old friend of mine, and one of God's noblemen, see-
ing me practising medicine on foot, sent me his riding-
horse and forage enough with him to keep him a month.
With better opportunities of getting about, and with

Hvents PoUoiving the War 315

the return of the refugees who had been scattered
through the country, and the free circulation of green-
backs by strangers, at the end of the month I bought
me a horse for seventy-five dollars and returned my
friend's. It was as late as October before I collected
greenbacks enough to justify my bringing my family
home. Then I rented two rooms for fifty dollars apiece
from Mrs. Freeman, who owned and occupied the
house now owned and occupied by Mr. Henry Roper,
and which before its mutilation by some modern re-
former was a beautiful and comfortable mansion. With
Mrs. Freeman and her daughter, now Mrs. Benjamin
Nash, of Richmond, we spent a happy winter, and
formed ties of friendship which have only loosened as
death has set his seal upon one or another of that little
group. Indeed, there were many, many happy families
that winter — the winter of i865-'66. It is true that the
most of us were poor, but who cared for the pinch of
poverty when loving ones, regathered to homes from
which they had been so long and so rudely driven, met
heart to heart, and recounted the perils and privations
which, now that they were over, had but drawn them
closer in love's embrace. And though the city was
filled with Federal soldiers, they were soldiers whom
we had met in battle ; men whom we had fought in
war, and with whornjve made up in peace ; men whose
respect we commanded, and who commanded our re-
spect.

The bummers and bounty jumpers, the politicians
and their measly crew of satellites, the little satraps
from the kitchens and chambers of Washington had not
been brought out and loosed upon us. And when the
last body of Federal troops was ordered away, a regi-
ment of regulars under a Colonel Randolph, who had
been garrisoned at the Fair Grounds, now West End
Park, I saw them go with unfeigned regret, and sur-

3i6 Scvcniy-fii'c Years in Old Virginia

prised some of my friends by saying to them that mili-
tary rule was infinitely better for us than the hybrid
combination of parasite and puppy which would surely
follow. In a very short time they had gathered human
testimony sufficient to convince them of this.

The real condition of the country which the Confed-
erate soldier left when he left his home for the war was
an anomaly of content and happiness, both for the in-
dividual and the masses. There were marked distinc-
tions in society founded upon the patriachal regime,
the result of slavery, where estates in land and negroes
were handed down from father to son, and the families
maintained for generations culture and command,
which the peculiar institution had not only engendered,
but made practicable and persistent. The gentlemen
of the higher classes with gracious dignity maintained
the noblesse oblige, and his humble neighbor accorded
him the respect and reverence that such generous con-
sideration awakened. The rich and the poor met to-
gether at the churches, on the Court-House green, at
the political speaking, at the general musters — citizens
all of one proud country, without arrogance on the one
part or envy on the other. The slave only was the serf
and the inferior, and he was proud of the shackles which
his rich master had fastened upon him. And when the
trumpet sounded the alarm of war all classes, every
citizen, put down his calling, his trade, his profession
without regard to rank, acknowledging a brotherhood
that was only known in our Southern land, and rushed
to the front, each as ready to give his life, as well for the
rich man's mansion as for the poor man's hut. And
even the poor slave begged to follow his master, and
did follow him, administering, without pay, to his com-
fort on the weary march or in the chilly bivouac, caring
for him when cut down in the blaze of battle ; or left at
home guarding the mistress and children with sleepless

Events Pollowing the War 3 1 7

watch, and providing by daily labor for their daily sus-
tenance.

Can any other country or nation show such an Ar-
cadian life amongst its people ? We of the South knew
none of the fanatical teachings of our bigoted brethren
of the North. Capital did not seek to throttle labor,
labor did not strike for protection. There was no so>
cialist stirring up strife with his vain and morbid dis-
senters ; the anarchist did not stand with pistol and
stiletto to stab any representative of honest govern-
ment in his way. We did not have a church or a school-
house on every hill, but when we planted a church it
did not preach heresy ; when we built a school-house it
did not teach a law higher than the "Constitution." Of
a population of five million of whites, six hundred and
twenty-five thousand had entered the Confederate
Army, and these were the flower of Southern manhood ;
and of these, two hundred thousand had lost their lives,
leaving in many instances helpless and dependent fami-
lies. Many thousands had been maimed and were in-
capable of labor. Desolation was left in the wake of the
Federal Army. One general, Sherman, had boasted
that he left a swath miles wide in the course of his army,
where nothing was left but the chimneys of the homes
he had burned ; and another general, Sheridan, declared
that a crow flying over the Valley of Virginia would
have to carry his rations with him. Everywhere in the
South that a Federal soldier had put his foot, — and few
places were so sacred or so distant from the highway
that they were not polluted with his presence, — every-
where agricultural implements were broken up, mills
burned, stock killed or driven ofl:, fences and provisions
destroyed. Indeed, nothing was left but the land, debts,
and taxes, and not a dollar of currency to pay debts or
taxes. Banks, banking institutions, notes, bonds had
all been based upon the credit of the Confederacy — ■

31 «S Scrciily-iiz'c Years in Old Virginia

and were all utterly worthless and insolvent. Worse
than all that, the people of the late Confederacy were
required to assume their full share of the debt of three
billion of dollars expended in their subjugation, and to
pay proportionately their portion of the millions of dol-
lars of pensions to the soldiers who had plundered them
for years. No conditions amongst civilized nations so
pitiable and so damnable had ever arisen — not even in
Prussia, at the end of her seven years' war, nor France
at the end of any of her revolutions ; only Poland, per-
haps, when her nationality was absorbed by her cor-
morant tyrants, and when it was written, "Peace reigns
in Warsaw." Peace also reigned in the Southern Con-
federacy, but it was a peace which will forever pass all
understanding except by those w'ho participated in its
immediate blessings. When the remnants of the scat-
tered and defeated army, disbanded and paroled,
reached their respective homes, — those who were fortu-
nate enough to find their homes left to them, — there
was great joy, of course, and there was also merry-
making, and even marrying and giving in marriage,
under circumstances seemingly very inauspicious to
parties assuming such responsibilities. But privations
and hardships of four long years of war had taught the
sturdy survivors lessons of courage, and patience, and
self-denial ; and men who had faced so many dangers
in the field, and women who had encountered so much
trouble at home, did not stop to count the cost of the
minor evils which a coming family might entail. In-
deed, it has been said that "Cupid always follows in the
receding steps of Mars."

As for the military go\ernment which was set up
immediately after the war in the subdued States, it gave
us peace and protection, as far as we had anything to

Events PoUoiving the War 319

protect ; and as a rule dispensed equal justice to all.*
It was infinitely preferable to the civic-military despot-
ism created by congressional action according to the
recommendation of the infamous "Committee of Fif-
teen" appointed with the specific and dastardly object
of further humiliation of the Southern people, of dis-
franchising the white man, and of elevating the late
slave over the head of his master. This committee of
twelve Republicans and three Democrats Mr, Blair said
"would have in its keeping in an especial degree the
fortunes of the Republican Party." The northern Dem-
ocrats, and some conservative Republicans, as Mr. Ray-
mond, of New York, and even Mr. Seward, who said
that "It is a plan not for reconstruction but for indefi-
nite delay," opposed the report of this committee. But
the majority of the Republican Party in Congress, ever
bitter, relentless, and filled with malice toward an en-
emy which they had not met personally, and whose
prowess had only fired their resentment instead of
evoking their admiration, adopted its plans, and the
reign of terror, the reign of the carpet-bagger, the
scalawag, and the negro — the latter the best of the
three — was inaugurated.

The military government which in this city had pre-
ceded the installation of the carpet bag and scalawag —
civic-military, that is, civil by pretense, with the mili-
tary behind it — was especially clean and just. The
regiment, which remained for about two years, was en-
camped at the Fair Grounds, now West End Park, and
was commanded by a Colonel Randolph, before spoken
of, a gentleman and a soldier, who maintained order and
dispensed justice "without fear, favor, or affection."
The Federal troops, the returned soldiers of the Union,

*See an article by Hon. Hillary Herbert in Atlanta Monthly^ Feb-
ruary, 1867.

320 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

and the returned soldiers of the Confederacy met and
hobnobbed in the most fraternal way, as men who had
tried each other's steel. Indeed, some of our young
men, returned soldiers, without means, without work,
and without education, which the exigencies of war
had prevented them from acquiring, having spent their
young manhood in the field, joined the ranks of the
Federal army when it left, and recommenced life as pro-
fessional soldiers, drawing their sword only for pay and
for hope of promotion.

I saw the last file of these Federal troops leave the
city with regret, and when I expressed my regret to a
friend, he seemed surprised, and said that he could not
understand my position. I asked him to await events
and watch the way from Washington. In a few days a
new king carpet-bagger, to represent the civil law, and
Adjutant Buttons, to represent the military, appeared.
He lived to see and feel this change of dynasty, and
there came down not one king, but a king for nearly
every county and city of the commonwealth — and with
every king an adjutant. The former, light of baggage,
had one carpet bag, hence his name; but that was filled
with provisos, and writs, an 1 orders. Lieutenant But-
tons was his executive officer ; and a scalawag, a low fel-
low to the manor born, and bought with promise of
spoil, was his suborned witness.- These men were called
sometimes and in some places "The Bureau," sometimes
the "Freedman's Bureau." Even amongst these the
military did occasionally contain a gentleman who, in
the fear of God and without the fear of men, did defend
the right and establish justice ; but he was few, and
not being appointed for the purpose aforesaid, was usu-
ally recalled at an early day. But no such saving ex-
ample of truth, of honor, or of manhood ever appeared
to my knowledge to break the monotony of the villainy,
which characterized carpet-baggers. The military ap-

Events Following the War 321

pointee was generally a little lieutenant satrap, with
shoulder straps, whose fine clothes proclaimed him in-
nocent of the smoke of battle, and who, "dressed in a
little brief authority, showed such fantastic tricks before
high heaven as made the angels weep." These un-
fledged younglings, worthy of the cesspools from which
they were taken, were usually the sons of sires holding
high places in political office, and were sent down to set
aside our honorable courts, to supplant the able and
peerless judiciary which had construed our laws, and
constituted themselves as judges, counsel, and jury to
administer so-called justice in the land. As might have
been expected, as was expected, and as was intended,
trouble soon arose of a gravity commensurate with such
untoward and intolerable conditions.

The first blow fell upon labor. The ex-slave early
commenced to recover from the daze of freedom sud-
denly thrust upon him, and knowing and trusting the
old master, had accepted service under him for stipu-
lated wages and was helping to turn over the soil for
the needed crops and to renovate the estates, broken
and wasted by four years of war. He was at once in-
formed that the "Nunion Burer" was sent for his pro-
tection, admonition, and instruction, and to that he
should report for orders. He promptly and piously
reported. There he was informed that it was not com-
patible with the character of a freeman to work for an-
other man, especially if that other man was a white
man. He was also told that the lands of his former
master would soon be taken by the "Nunion" men and
divided amongst his slaves, and that each negro would
receive a mule and forty acres of land, and that he
would have opportunity of working for himself alone.
He believed and accepted this statement and promise in
all of its fulness. And thus, not only was the ex-master
Stripped of his needed help in th? time of his greatest
SI

322 S event y-five Years in Old Virginia

necessity, but the old trusting and kindly relations be-
tween the races were broken and the way opened for
future trouble and disturbance. No program for the
production of trouble could have been better adapted to
that purpose. The negro understood that he was the
"Ward of the Nation" — the "Boss of the Burer" had
told him so. As ward he had to be taken care of until
he could come to his estate of forty acres of land and a
mule. In the meantime, nothing was left to do in the
daytime but to loaf, especially if the headquarters of the
"Burer" happened to be at some little village or court-
house. And nothing could have so well suited him ex-
cept the nightly office left him — to roam. This covered
all the ground of his capabilities and desires ; and in
roaming of course he frequently over-reached upon his
neighbor's property and invaded his neighbor's pre-
serves, his pig-pen, his corn-house, or his chicken-
house, and his neighbor would catch him in flagrant de-
tection and would inflict upon him punishment both just
and appropriate. And it was always a white neighbor,
and for this his white neighbor was always reported at
headquarters — headquarters being, in scalawag and car-
pet-bag lingo, the place where the "Nunion Bosses"
held court. And then followed a travesty of justice
which no pen or pencil could describe or portray.

Mr. Thomas Nelson Page has published a book called
''Red Rock," purporting to be a novel, but an over-
true story, in which he has essayed to give some ac-
count of the assizes in one of these civic-military dis-
tricts. He has failed to exaggerate, if it were his pur-
pose to do so, the pollution, the corruption, the crime,
the darkness of the deviltry which characterized the
proceedings of these judicial sessions. At the mouths
of their witnesses, suborned or otherwise, strife and
contention were continuously stirred and promoted.
And the more quiet, conservative, and respectable the

Events Following the War 323

citizen, the more it was their pleasure to persecute and
humble him ; and if he had any means, to pluck him,
and to prosecute and fine and imprison him, under false
charges of this pestiferous crew of cormorants, until
many a man sorrowed that he had not laid down his
life, instead of his musket, at Appomattox.

These were the days of Reconstruction, so called, in
comparison with which the bloody days of battle were
as pastime ; and I know of no man now, whatever his
party affiliation, who does not look back upon them with
combined horror and indignation. And I hold now that
the greatest achievement of the Southern soldier was
not that, for four years, he faced death at such odds in
an hundred fights, and ever held his own with foemen
worthy of his steel, but that as a citizen, and unarmed,
he had the fortitude to endure and to live down the
humiliation of those bitter days, and that now he only
holds them in his memory as a horrid hell-dream of the
unreal.

The Hon. S. S. Cox, of New York, says "that no
people ever suffered such humiliation and degradation
as was suffered by the South from the rule of the carpet-
bagger. * * * The thesaurus of our English tongue
may do justice to the plagues of Egypt, but here were
plagues tenfold more numerous and worse." His lan-
guage is vigorous and opulent, especially in invectives,
but he confesses his utter inability to do justice to the
subject, and he calls upon the Hon. Judge Jeremiah
Black, one of the most eminent jurists of this country,
"to eke out or wreak out his own feebleness of expres-
sion in describing the horde that flew down upon the
South at the close of the war." Judge Black says :

These were called carpet-baggers, not because the word was de-
scriptive or euphonious, but because they have no other name by
which they are known amongst the children of men. They were
unprincipled adventurers who sought their fortunes in the South by

324 Scvcuty-fiz'e Years in Old Virginia

plundering the disarmed and defenseless people; some of them were
the dregs of the Federal army, the meanest of the camp followers ;
many were fugitives from northern justice; the hest of them were
men who went down after peace, ready for any deed of shame that
was safe or profitable. These, combining with a few treacherous
scalawags and some leading negroes to serve as decoys for the rest,
and backed by the power of the Federal Government, became the
strongest body of thieves that ever pillaged a people. They swarmed
all over the Southern States, from the Potomac to the Gulf, and
settled in hordes, not with any intent to remain there, but merely
to feed on the substance of a prostrate and defenceless people. They
took whatever came within their reach. * * *

By force or fraud they controlled or prevented elections. They
returned sixty of themselves to our Congress, and ten or twelve of
the most ignorant and venal amongst them were at the same time
thrust into the Senate. The pretended representative was always to
vote for any measure that would oppress or enslave his so-called
constituents; his hostility was unconcealed and he lost no oppor-
tunity to do them injury.

And quoting from Judge Black again in his essay on
the Electoral Commission, the "Great Fraud of 1876,"
he said :

The greediest Roman Proconsuls left something to the Provinces
which they had wasted, the Norman did not strip the Saxon quite to
the skin, the Puritans under Cromwell did not utterly desolate Ire-
land ; their rapacity was confined to visible things which they could
handle and use; they could not take what did not exist. But the
carpet-bagger had an invention unknown to these old-fashioned rob-
bers, which increased his stealing power as much as the steam en-
gine adds to the mechanical force of mere natural muscles. He
made negotiable bonds of the State, signed and sealed them ac-
cording to forms of law, sold them and converted the proceeds to
his own use, and then "defied justice to go beyond the returns."
By this device his felonious fingers were made long enough to reach
the products of posterity. He laid his lien on property not yet
created ; he anticipated the labor of coming ages, and appropriated
the fruits of it in advance; he coined the industry of future gen-
erations into cash, and snatched the inheritance from children whose
fathers were unborn. Projecting his cheat forward by this con-
trivance, and operating laterally at the same time, he gathered an
amount of plunder which no country in the world would have yielded
to Goth or vandal.

This arraignment of the representatives of the Fed-
eral Government sent down upon the South after the

Events Follozving the War 325

close of the war, and the disarming of the gallant men
whose heroism for four long years had commanded the
wonder of the world, was not written by one of them
nor prompted by partisan feehng, begot of the bitter-
ness of oppression which they had been robbed of the
power to resist; but it was the outpouring of a pa-
triotic spirit in some noblemen of the North who dared
to speak, and who defied the despots that, under the
guise of the "powers that be ordained of God," hid the
cloven foot of another party, and administered, in ad-
vance, the laws of another "kingdom, not of this world,"
but "where Satan sat enthroned,"

But it may be asked. Why reproduce these bitter rec-
ords ? Why dig up from the dirt and expose to the light
of day deeds of deviltry which the sun blushed to wit-
ness when they were born, and which Time, all-healing
Time, with mantle of charity seeks to cover over with
hopeful promise of a halcyon day when "might shall no
more make right?" Ah! why write history at all? Is
there nothing in the lives of th® vicious and corrupt
which the children of the generations following should
be taught to shun ? Is there nothing in the career and
conduct of the brave and the virtuous which posterity
should be taught to honor and emulate? Shall Nero
and Caligula, shall Cato and Aristides, live alike in his-
tory, models for the young to imitate, examples for the
young to follow? Does history never reproduce itself?
Does the light which illumines the wake of the past
project no shadows that teach the lesson of a sleepless
lookout? Some wise men, even of to-day, think they
see signals of danger in the political sky, warning of
breakers ahead. From our new possessions of a people
bought against their will and governed without refer-
ence to their wishes, and \'fithout regard to the teach-
ings of the founders of this Republic that the genius of
the Constitution demanded and guaranteed the consent

326 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

of the governed, a wail of oppression and of cruelties
has reached us even over seven thousand miles of sea,
drowning the lesson of human liberty which for more
than a century we have taught to every man who
sought the aegis of our flag !

Let us refer to the Congressional Record. In the
Senate of the United States, April 26, 1902, Mr. Car-
mack, resuming his speeech on the 'ThiHppine Govern-
ment Bill," said:

By the terms of the pending bill, the islands were for the Filipinos
as the pasture is for the sheep — they live and browse there in order
to raise wool for others to wear, and mutton for others to eat.

If the carpet-bag government you propose to establish in the
Philippines is not a thousand times better than that which j'ou es-
tablished in your own country after the Civil War, the Lord God
hate mercy upon the people of those islands."

He then referred to the cabled reports from Manila
that General Smith had acknowledged that he had
given orders to make Samar a howling wilderness, and
to kill all over ten years of age, as horrible beyond de-
scription. The program was to practise unheard of bar-
barities in the slaughter of the inhabitants, and to have
the torch complete the work of slaughter. When the
land is without a home and the country without a peo-
ple, then the word pacified will be written upon the
tombstone of the province of Samar.

It is now known that one hundred thousand people
have perished in a single province in which there were
only three hundred thousand, and yet the people of the
United States knew nothing of this until recently. And
what was that for ? That a few rapscallions and carpet-
baggers might have unlimited license to thieve and
plunder! No wonder that the people are crying for
their old masters from Spain ! Senator Hoar, of Mas-
sachusetts, and General Miles, the ex-Commander-in-
Chief of the Armies of the United States, neither one

Brents PoUoii'uw the IT or

of whom can be accused of the love of the South or of
the taint of the "sleeping treason of the Southron,"
have spoken in plainer words, if words can be made
plainer, of the cruelties and barbarities perpetrated
upon that simple and comparatively defenseless people
whom the Government went seven thousand miles out
of its way to persecute, and toward whom it violated
every written and unwritten law under pretense of
carrying to them the light of the Gospel and the bless-
ing of citizens' freedom.

Is not history reproducing itself, and is it treason, is
it a breaking of faith with the parole pledges of the
past, for an ex-Confederate to note and to give warn-
ing of a danger which, under a mailed hand seven thou-
sand miles away, has before this time been felt at
home, and which is not restrained by principle nor
palsied by age?

In going so far, I have gone beyond the intent of
these Reminiscences when I commenced to record them.
It is difBcult for one who has witnessed the desolation
of a country, his own by right of heritage from his
fathers, whose blood had bought it, whose valor had de-
fended it, and whose wisdom had crowned it with the
best government which the world ever saw; who has
seen the highest order of civilization, the structure of
the bravest men and of the fairest women of all time,
go down in a darkness upon which day can never again
break ; who has felt the steel in his own body and the
iron in his own soul, to sul)mit with meekness to it all.
and to suffer in silence.

Mr. John Marshall, the author of the book referred
to before, quoted from Giusti. "writes bitter things be-
cause his soul is bitter, for thy sake. O Freedom" ("The
American Bastile"), and his motto is Tevea-Oo <t*&)?
"Let there be light" ; yes. light upon the past, light to il-
lumine with the brightness of heaven characters whom

28 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

envy and malice had sought to smirch or stain ; Hght to
illustrate, for the encouragement of the future, ex-
amples of truth, and virtue, and fortitude, and courage
unsurpassed in history, in song, or in story.

The actors in the tragic drama of the Civil War, —
and heroes there were, both Greek and Trojan, — are
fast passing off the stage. There is no Homer to per-
petuate in song the prowess of the mad courage of
Hector or Achilles, but monuments are being erected
of stone and of brass. North and South, to commemo-
rate the valor and patriotism of the men who gave their
lives in the battle for the right as they saw the right.
For these men and for their memories we have nothing
but praise and honor, but for the dastardly players in
the miserable travesty of reconstruction which followed
the war, the sooner their names and memories perish,
the better for the world which their presence befouled
for so many unhappy years !

The speech of Hon. Daniel W. Voorhees, in the
House of Representatives, March 23, 1872 — six years
after the ostensible close of the war — depicts in terms
of denunciation as severe as words can convey, but that
words utterly fail to convey, the story of wrong, of con-
tempt, and of oppression fastened upon the eleven
States lately in rebellion against the Federal Govern-
ment by the harpies sent down to fatten upon their
vitals.

In evidence of the robberies perpetrated upon the
impoverished citizens of these States by the carpet-bag
and scalawag rulers placed over them, he tabulated the
following figures and defies their contradiction :

States. Debts and Liabilities.

At close of War. January, 1872.

Alabama $5,939,68487 $38,381,96737

Arkansas, 4,036,952 87 19,761,265 62

Florida 221,000 00 15,763,447 54

Georgia, debts normal. 50,137,500 00

Events FoJlozving the J Tar 3^9

Louisiana, 10,099,074 00 50,540,206 91

North Carolina, 9,699,500 00 34,887,467 85

South Carolina, 5,000,000 00 39,158,914 47

Mississippi, debts normal. 2,000,000 00

Tennessee, 20,105,606 66 45,688,263 46

Texas, debts normal. 20,361,000 00

Virginia 31,938,14459 45,480,54221

Grand total, $87,039,962.99 $362,160,575.43

And to what purpose was this immense outlay rav-
ished from a people broken by war; homes desolated;
mills destroyed ; farming utensils burned ; old men and
young men slain in battle, or helpless from wounds ;
labor taken from them, and currency worthless?

Mr. Voorhees says :

There was no monument erected to the public good; no colleges,
no schools, no seminaries built with the stolen treasures; no lofty
edifices or durable roads constructed ; no massive bridges built ; no
rice swamp ditched; no harbors improved; no works of utility or
patriotism erected. One monotonous desolation, which unholy
avarice and unconstrained oppression had stamped upon the people;
nothing to mitigate their degradation ; stripped and robbed and left
by the wayside.

The frogs, the darkness, the lice, and locusts left more blessings
behind them in Egypt than these States received from their imported
rulers, carpet-baggers, and detestable and more venal scalawags of
home birth.

APPENDIX.

The Last Fight at Five Forks— Mr. Granier— What Manner of Man
Was He — In the Interest of Justice to Mahone — Old Blandford
Church — Personal Ancestry — American Bastiles — Dahlgren's
Raid — "Who Fired the First Gun?"

THE LAST FIGHT AT FIVE FORKS

The following note, taken from "Reminiscences of
Crenshaw's Battery," by Private J. C. Goolsby, of Rich-
mond, who entered the Confederate service at 14 years
of age and served until the last day at Appomattox
Court House, giving an account of the last fight at Five
Forks, will confirm the story of the tragic loss of life
there, both of soldiers and animals. He says:

The battery took a position behind a fence, or rather we pulled
the fence down, the grounds being separated by a space of about
one hundred yards or more. In our front was an open field. * * *
Standing in line the eye was first attracted by a neat frame house,
situated in the right corner of the field, whose inmates were seen
hastily leaving, making for the woods on the right ; the field itself
covering an area of some 500 feet or more in length by about the
same in breadth, skirted on either side by a dense growth of trees.
In our front for 500 yards the surface was even, after which it
partook of a slight inclination, until it receded in a valley below, the
ground upon which the enemy were massing for the desperate work
of the evening. * * * We heard the sound of a bugle and pres-
ently our skirmishers were seen coming into our lines, followed by
a charging column of Federal horsemen. What a sight ! On they
came, firing, shouting, the earth almost trembling with the heavy
weight, the field being filled, as they aproached our lines, with the
dead and wounded, the horses running in all directions, some with
nders and some without. Our men could be restrained no longer,
and the word "Fire" ran along our lines. Almost instantly the in-
fantry poured in upon the horsemen a terrible volley; the guns of
the artillery, double .shotted, firing at the same time. But on they
came, such was the power behind them; not being able to turn
aromid, and running through the guns, only to be made prisoners.
The destruction of life here was great, long lines being opened in

Appendix 331

their ranks as they attempted to break through. I had witnessed a
good many exciting scenes in the army, but this surpassed them
all. I really thought that we should never stop them. But whilst
this assault was made in our front, Sheridan massed his infantry in
three or four lines on our left, and swept up the works, capturing
our left guns, stationed just at the spot from which this battle takes
its name; but not without desperate resistance on the part of the
cannonaders, one of whom knocked down a Federal soldier with the
sponge staff. It was at this gun that Col. Willie Pegram was
killed, the Christian warrior, the modest young soldier who had
lived long enough to win the plaudits of the whole army.

The men behind these guns belonged to Pegram's
BattaHon, and their support was Corse's Veteran Brig-
ade. It is unnecessary to add that the battle which
they fought was hot and heavy.

MR. GRANIER

Mr. Granier (I cannot recall his initials) was a
French nobleman who, with hundreds of others,
escapes the massacre of the whites at the negro
insurrection of San Domingo some fifty years be-
fore and sought refuge in this country. He had
a beautiful daughter, a brunette, a little above the
usual stature, of perfect figure, and with all the grace
and vivacity of her race. She was of course greatly ad-
mired and sought after. She gave her heart and hand
to Mr. James L. Dowell, a practical electrician and su-
perintendent of the telegraph system in Virginia, and
perhaps as far South as New Orleans. They lived in
Petersburg, happily, until the breaking out of the
Civil War, when Dowell's business calling him to
Richmond, they removed to that city. Mrs. Dowell was
a nervous, highly-strung woman, neurotic, subject to at-
tacks of hysteria of an exaggerated degree, and withal
very eccentric. I was not fully aware of her eccentric-
ity, although I was her physician, until on one Sunday,
sitting by her in church, I saw the butt of a revolver

'^T)2 Sevciiiy-fiz'c Years in Old Virginia

showing' ilsclf outside of her pocket. I remonstrated
with her for going armed, but she laughed and said that
her husband was away from home so much that she car-
ried a pistol to protect herself. After removal to Rich-
mond she was divorced from her husband and married
Mr. E. A. Pollard, a giften but erratic man, and as ec-
centric as herself. He was at one time editor of the
Richmond Examiner, and co-editor with his brother,
Mr. Rives Pollard, of the "Southern Opinion," and au-
thor of the "Southern History of the War,'' "The Lost
Cause," "Lee and His Lieutenants," "Life of Jefferson
Davis," and several other books. Mr. Rives Pollard,
whose pen w'as as caustic as that of his brother, was
killed from ambush on account of some severe stric-
tures published in his paper in reference to a noted
young lady of Richmond. • He was shot from a window
as he passed along the street. The young lady's
brother was arrested and tried for murder, but was
acquitted. Mr. Pollard's relations with his wife seemed
strained, and could not have been very cordial, as a few
years afterwards, in an apothecary store in Baltimore/
she shot him, wounding him slightly. After the death
of her second husband, Mrs. Pollard, whose eccentrici-
ties seemed to have increased rather than otherwise,
went to New York to live, but returned to Petersburg
on two occasions — once as an elocutionist, and once as
a temperance lecturer. On one Sunday afternoon, in
the course of a lecture at the Academy of Music in this
city, she invited any one in the audience who had
spoken at any time disparagingly of her to come upon
the platform and that she would treat him to a cowhid-
ing. It is needless to add that no one accepted the
invitation. That she meant what she said was possibly
in the memory of some persons, who knew that she
had on one occasion assaulted Senator Vest with a cow-
hide in the Capitol of the Confederacy in Richmond.

Appendix 333

These reminiscences are recalled by the publication of a
telegram by the Associated Press in the Index-Appeal
of last December: 'Taris, Dec. 5. — The United States
Consulate here is seeking the two sons of an American
woman, Mrs, Marie Antoinette Nathalie, who was run
over by a carriage November 30 and later died in the
Beaujoir Hospital. It is said that she lived at one time
in Richmond, Virginia, and in New York." She had
disappeared from this country for many years, and
seems to have dropped the name of Dowell and Pollard
and Granier (her maiden name) and retained only the
name of her girlhood, by which she was known to her
friends in this city, Marie Antoinette Nathalie. Peace
to her ashes! I knew her as a girl, piquant and pretty;
as a bride, beautiful and happy; as a young mother,
loving and devoted. What nervous strain broke the
figment of her faith in truth and constancy of man, and
turned her young life to that law of the neurotics bor-
dering upon the irresponsible, God only knows, no
other. Let that one who is without sin cast the first
'stone upon her grave. Her children died before her,
and at her death she could probably have said with
Loza, the Indian chief, in the bitterness of her soul,
"Not one drop of my blood flows in human veins."

WHAT MANNER OF MAN WAS HE?

In reference to Lee and his men I have been asked,
"What manner of man was he? — what manner of men
were they? Let a Northern soldier answer. Briga-
dier-General Chas. A. Whittier, of the United States
Volunteers, in a paper read before the Military Histor-
ical Society of Massachusetts, says :

The army of Northern Virginia will deservedly rank as the best
army which has existed on this continent; suffering privations un-
known to its opponents, it fought well from the early Peninsular
days to the surrender of that small remnant at Appomattox. It was

334 ScTcnfy-fivc Years in Old Virginia

always ready, active, mobile; without doubt it was composed of
the best men of the South, rushing to what they considered the de-
fense of their country against a bitter invader; and they took the
places assigned to them, ofiicer or private, and fought until beaten
by superiority of numbers. The North sent no such army to the
field, and its patriotism was of an easier kind. There was no rally-
ing cry which drove all the best, the rich, and the educated to join
the fighting armies. We had Loyal Leagues and Christian com-
missions, and great war Governors (Andrew Curtin, and Morton),
organizers of victory ; a people full of loyalty and of hatred for the
neighbors who differed from them as to the way in which the war
should be conducted, never realizing the fact that the best way was
by going or sending their brightest and best. As a matter of com-
parison we have lately read that from William and Mary College,
Virginia, thirty-two out of thirty-five professors and instructors
abandoned college work and joined the army in the field; Harvard
College, with its large corps of professors and instructors, sent one
professor. We thought our own Massachusetts a pattern of loyalty
and patriotism during the war. Read the record of Massachusetts
Volunteers as published by the State. The bounty paid (thirteen
million of dollars by the State and more millions by the cities and
towns, was a worthless expenditure to give Massachusetts a nom-
inal credit; was paid to the deserters; to the host of men who never
joined their regiments; to the enlisting officers who put out on
their posters at one time something like this : "Enlist in heavy ar-
tillery regiments ; no marching; no fighting; comfortable quarters,"
etc., etc.

General Whittier then furnishes a hst of Massachu-
setts artillery and infantry, counting 20,959 men, ''of
zvhich only 95 were killed in battle. This does not indi-
cate a brilliant or a nsefid service." Had General Whit-
tier chosen to compare Harvard with the University of
Virginia, he might have noted that whilst the number of
students at Harvard was 833, against 630 at the Univer-
sity of Virginia, there are only 138 names graven on the
roll of honor of those men of Harvard alumni who gave
their lives for the Union ; whilst the roll of the Univer-
sity men, when it shall be graven in brass, will furnish a
list twice as long as that of the New England Univer-
sity. Three out of every foirr of the alumni of the Uni-
versity of Virginia sprang to arms at the call of Virginia
in 1861, and of the fifteen hundred who served under
the banner of the Southern corps, three hundred and

Appendix 335

fifty died for the. Lost Cause; and to show of what fight-
ing material these were, out of the fifteen hundred, thir-
teen hundred bore commission from the Secretary of
War, from generals to second lieutenants, and these
commissions were w'on by deeds of valor in the field.
And a similar record may be written of every college
and university in the South,

IN THE INTEREST OF JUSTICE TO MAHONE.

I have stated that after the bloody repulse of the
Federal Army on the i8th of June, 1864, rio other as-
sault of any importance upon our lines was made dur-
ing the Siege of Petersburg except on the 30th of July
at the Crater.

Mahone's part in that affair has already been re-
corded. Subsequently, from the 18th of June, the fight-
ing near Petersburg was always to the left of the enemy
in the persistent attempt of Grant to turn our right and
to envelope our forces in his anaconda fold. We met
him always outside of our works, and in the fierce fight-
ing which followed. Mahone was conspicuous above
any other leader. We say that in no spirit of disparage-
ment and with no intent to do injustice to any of the
gallant men who so well played their part in the heroic
but hopeless struggle in the last scenes of that memora-
ble drama.

But to do justice to an officer who ever had tardy
justice done him, to establish the truth of my statement,
I have had recourse to the official records of the Union
and Confederate armies.

June 22, 1864, General Lee to the Secretary of War
(Serial 80, page 750) :

The enemy's infantry was attacked this P. AI. on the west side of
the Jerusalem Plank Road and driven from his first line of works

33^3 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

to his second, on that road, by General Mahone, with a portion of
his division. About i,6oo prisoners, 4 pieces of artillery, 8 stands of
colors, and a large number of small arms were captured.

Of this brilliant action General Grant says (page 14,
same volume) :

The affair of the 22nd was much worse than I had heretofore
learned. Our loss was nearly 2,000 men and four pieces of artil-
lery.

The next engagement was on June 23. Of this Gen-
eral Lee says (page 750, same volume) :

Yesterday the enemy made a demonstration with infantry upon
the Weldon Railroad, but before he had done much damage was
driven back by General Mahone with a portion of his command.
About 600 prisoners — 28 commissioned officers — were taken.

Again, June 29, General Lee says (page 752, same
volume) :

General Hampton reports that he attacked the enemy's cavalry
this side of Sapony Church, and drove them beyond that point.
The fight continued all night, and at daylight he routed them. When
they reached Reams Station they were confronted by a portion of
Mahone's division, who attacked them in the front, whilst their left
flank was turned by General Fitz Lee's cavalry. The enemy was
completely routed and several pieces of artillery and a number of
prisoners were captured.

No further affair of importance occurred until July
30, — Battle of the Crater, — in which the part taken by
Mahone has already been referred to.

The next engagement which we note from the same
record was August 19 (page 851, et seq., Serial 872):

Gen. A. P. Hill attacked the enemy at the Davis House on the
Weldon Road. Heth's division in front, Mahone on the rear and
flank, capturing 2,700 prisoners, flags, arms, etc.

And then on August 28th :

Hagood's Brigade drove the enemy into their intrcnchments, taking
prisoners — Mahone not participating.

Appendix 2)37

And then, August 26, Ave note "the Battle of Reams
Station" was fought. Troops engaged : Heth's and
Wilcox's Division, aided by Hampton's splendid cav-
alry. Hancock's Corps was badly defeated — seven
flags, 2,000 prisoners, nine pieces of artillery captured.
Mahone not engaged.

Next, September 16, "Hampton's famous cattle raid"
in the rear of the enemy ; no infantry participating.

On October i Generals Heth and Hampton drove
the enemy on the Squirrel Level Road, capturing 1,000
prisoners.

Then, October 28 (page 853, Serial 87), General Lee
telegraphs of the battle of Burgess Mill, fought the day
before :

General Hill reports that the attack of General Heth made on the
enemy the evening before, on the Boydton Plank Road, mentioned
in my dispatch, was made by three brigades under General Mahone
in front and General Hampton in the rear. Mahone captured 400
prisoners, three stands of colors and six pieces of artillery. The
latter could not be brought oflf, as the enemy held the bridge. In
the attack subsequently made by the enemy, Mahone broke three lines
of battle, and during the night the enemy retired, leaving his
wounded and more than 250 dead upon the field.

Again, October 31st, General Lee says (page 854,
same volume) :

General Mahone penetrated the enemy's picket line last night,
near Petersburg, and swept it for half a mile, capturing 230 men and
officers, without losing a man.

Subsequent to this there was no collision of any im-
portance with the enemy until February 6, 1865, when
the battle of Hatcher's Run was fought. Of this Gen-
eral Lee reports to the Secretary of War (page 381,
Serial 95) :

This morning Pegram's Division marched down the right bank of
the creek to reconnoiter, when it was attacked vigorously. The bat-
tle was obstinately contested for some hours, but General Pegram
bring killed, confusion occurred and the division was driven back.

2^S Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

Evans's Division, ordered by General Gordon to support Pegrani,
charged the enemy, pressed him back, but was in its turn compelled
to retire. Mahone's Division arriving, the enemy was rapidly driven
back to his defenses on Hatcher's Run.

Soon after this Mahone was withdrawn from the
flanking position on the Petersburg Hne that he had
held so long, and was sent to the trenches on Bermuda
front, relieving Pickett, who took his place on the right.

Thereafter: Gordon's splendid attack on Hare's Hill,
February 26, which he carried, but could not hold for
lack of supports, and the disastrous defeat of Anderson
and Pickett a few days later at Five Forks completed
the fighting around Petersburg.

This is not intended to ignore the attack made by the
corps of Smith, Hancock, and Burnside on the i6th
of June, before General Lee had established his per-
manent position at Petersburg, and before he had
brought more than half of his army from Richmond.
In this engagement the enemy lost 10,288 men, but the
envelopment of the city followed. The regular siege
of the city may be said to have begun on the 19th of
June. On the 21st, Generals Wright and Birney in-
augurated the famous left movement, losing three thou-
sand men and being compelled to retire.

THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CAVALIER

Mr. W, H. Whitmore, in the "Cavalier Dismounted,"
says that the "people of the South were descended in
great measure (through Virginia, of course) from in-
dentured white servants sent from the jails and slums
of England." And even Mr. Hugh Blair Grigsby,
the "Bluelight Chronicler of Virginia History," says
that the "cavalier was essentially a slave to the King
and a slave to the church" ; that he (Grigsby) "looked
with contempt upon the miserable figment which

Appendix 339

sought to trace the distinguishing points of the Vir-
ginia character to the influence of those butterflies of
the EngHsh aristocracy."

To this, Mr. John Fiske, with better opportunities
for investigation and with larger scope of vision, says
that "Mr. Grigsby's remarks are an expression of
American feehng in what may be called its Elijah Pog-
ram period, when the knowledge of history was too
slender and the historic sense too dull to be shocked
at the incongruity of classing such men as Strafford and
Falkland with butterflies."

Undoubtedly at the early colonization of Virginia
many characterless adventurers sought Virginia for the
betterment of their future — many, in other words, "for
their good" ; and many left Old England for their coun-
try's good; and some as indentured servants. But no
student of the history of the State can fail to see that
there was a great emigration of cavaliers from Eng-
land to Tidewater Virginia.

The great exodus of cavaliers to Virginia began in
1649, after the execution of Charles I. On the news of
the death of the king. Governor Berkeley sent a mes-
sage to England inviting the Royalists to the colony;
and in less than a twelve-month more than a thousand
had come. And from this date, 1649, to 1670 the
population of Virginia had increased from 15,000 to
38,000, chiefly, no doubt, from this emigration, and in
spite of the fact that there was an exodus of the Puri-
tans to New England — as many as one thousand in
1649 — oil account of the treatment of Gov. Berkeley.
This fact of the migration of Royalist cavaliers is fur-
ther confirmed by the names conferred on the counties
and settlements populated by them, which could only
have been done by a people as loyal to royalty as the
cavaliers were. The counties of Elizabeth City, James
City, Charles City, Warwick, York, Gloucester, King

340 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

William, King George, Surry, Sussex, Prince George,
Dimviddie, Chesterfield, Brunswick, Mecklenburg,
Lunenburg, and dozens of others, all derived their
names from noble or royal personages.

And the population of these first-settled counties de-
veloped all the cavaHer character and instinct, — in their
love of horses, dogs and sporting, — and maintained
these habits until the day of the sad depletion of gentle
blood by the invasion of the mongrel soldiery of the
North in the war between the States. Besides, by "no
possible ingenuity of Constitution making or of legis-
lation could a society made up of boors and ruf^ans"
create and bring forward, as leaders in war, in law, in
statecraft the men who made Virginia the Mother of
States and the home of the highest civilization of the
1 8th century.

OLD BLANDFORD CHURCH.

"Thou art crumbling to the dust, old pile !

Thou art hastening to thy fall ;
And 'round thee in thy loneliness

Clings the ivy to the wall ;
The worshippers are scattered now

Who knelt before thy shrine.
And silence reigns where anthems rose

In the days of 'Auld Lang Syne.'

"And sadly sighs the wandering wind

Where oft in years gone by
Prayer rose from many hearts to Him,

The Highest of the High.
The tramp of many a noiseless foot

That sought thy aisles is o'er,
And many a weary heart around

Is still forever more.

Appendix 341

III.

"How doth ambitious hope take wing!

How droops the spirit now !
We hear the distant city's din;

The dead are mute below.
The sun that shone upon their paths

Now gilds their lowly graves,
The zephyrs which once fanned their brows

The grass above them waves.

"Oh ! could we call the many back

Who 've gathered here in vain —
Who 've careless roved where we do now,

Who '11 never meet again;
How would our very hearts be stirred

To meet the earnest gaze
Of the lovely and the beautiful —

The lights of other days."

In referring to the authorship of these stirring lines
on Old Blandford Church, we have said that they were
generally attributed to Tyrone Powers, an English
actor; by some others they were attributed to Mr.
Hiram Haines, the editor of the Petersburg Intelligencer;
but I have recently learned from a lady in this city,
Miss Nora Fontaine Davidson, a most intelligent and
vivacious lady, who still lives to great usefulness in
the present, but who holds more converse with the
heroic past than any other person of my acquaintance,
that they were neither written by Powers nor Haines.
She derived her information directly from her father.
Col. James M. Davidson, who surveyed the new part
of the Blandford Cemetery, and for perhaps forty years
was the custodian of the grounds and records, and who
was a worthy and veritable "Old Mortality." Miss
Davidson quotes her father, who said : "While sitting
in the old church one day in 1843 o'" 1844 I spied a
lady standing at the south wall of the church by the
door, with pencil in hand writing on the wall. Fearing
my presence might be an intrusion, I remained a silent
spectator. Some minutes elapsed, when, seeing me,

342 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

she advanced, and I recognized in the writer an old
friend and schoohnate, Miss Henning, a daughter of
Chief-Justice Henning, of the Court of Appeals, and
who subsequently became Mrs. Schermerhorn." Miss
Davidson says that fact has been corroborated by Mrs.
Schermerhorn's sister, who was with her at the time
of the writing. This lady was a cousin, I believe, of
the late Wm. F. Spotswood of this city.

Lately the ''United Daughters of the Confeder-
acy" and the ''Daughters of the American Revo-
lution," two distinct organizations, have both sought
to get possession of the Old Church — the first to make
it a Memorial Chapel of the Lost Cause, and the second
to preserve it as one of the Historical ReUcs of
Colonial Virginia, and the contest between them has
been quite sharp and not always tempered with gentle
concession on either side, so much so that a parody has
appeared in one of the city papers — "Some more lines
on Old Blandford Church," "Author still unknown" —
in which the same rhythm and the same ring has been
perpetuated in a production proven worthy of the
original poem. But the gifted perpetrater need not
hope to hide his modest merit behind the cloak of un-
certainty that has so long shadowed the original. His
friends will certainly recognize in "Some More Lines"
the pen of the genial and talented engineer and super-
intendent of the Atlantic Coast Line, Mr. Morton
Riddle :

"Thou art stirring up a dust, old pile !

For it's quite the proper caper
To take thee from this loneliness

And exploit thee in the paper;
The worshipers are scattered now

Who knelt before thy shrine,
And D. A. R. and U. D. C.

Scrap o'er thee all the time

Appendix -" 343

II.

"And sadly sighs the wandering wind,

Likewise the Index readers,
Who have to read "Commemorated,"

Also the Editor's leaders.
The tread of many a noiseless foot

That sought thy aisles is o'er;
We hear the sounds of jeers and scoffs,

The "Daughters" have the floor.

III.

"How doth ambitious hope take wing.

How droops the spirit now!
We hear the never-ceasing din

And envy those below.
The sun that shone upon their paths

Now gilds their lowly graves.
Whilst we, the quick, must still endure

This column while it raves.

IV.

"Oh ! could we call this jaw match off

And live in peace once more.
Let Johnny Reb and Colonial Dame

Live happy as before;
How would our very hearts be stirred,

How full would be our cup
If the U. D. C.'s and D. A. R.'s

Would kiss, then make it up."

PERSONAL ANCESTRY,

As these are personal memoirs, I will here note that
my mother, Mary EHzabeth Weldon, was born in
Blandford and baptized in Old Blandford Church. She
was the daughter of Daniel Weldon, of Weldon, on the
Roanoke, North Carolina, and of Mrs. Mary Donald
Weldon, nee Eraser. Mrs. Weldon, her mother, was the
daughter of Simon Eraser, of the first of Donald &
Eraser (the latter a younger son of Simon Eraser,
Lord Lovatt of Scotland), Scotch merchants in Bland-
ford. She married, when very young, one of the

344 Scvcnty-fivc Years in Old Virginia

Randolphs, of Curls Neck, on James River, by whom
she had one child, John Randolph, who died soon
after coming of age. On the death of Mr. Ran-
dolph, who lived only a few years, she married my
grandfather, Mr. Weldon, of North Carolina, by whom
she had two daughters — one, my mother, just alluded
to, and the other, Jane Weldon, who married Dr.
James B. Claiborne, of Brunswick County, Virginia.
My grandfather Weldon only lived a few years after
this marriage, and my grandmother married a third
time. Her third husband was Dr. Blunt, of Belle View,
Southampton County, Virginia, by whom she had four
sons and three daughters. One of these sons, Simon
Blunt, displayed such courage in a fight with the
negroes in Nat. Turner's insurrection (1832) that,
though only a lad of 12 years of age. General Jackson,
then President of the United States, made him a mid-
shipman in the Navy. Another son, and the oldest,
William Blunt, my mother's half brother, was notified
in 1846 or 1847 that he was heir to the title and estates
of Lord Lovatt, of Beaufort Castle, in Invernesshire,
Scotland. He declined both title and estates, however,
and I have recently heard that the matter was in con-
tention for 20 years afterwards. But I suppose that
another heir was finally found, as I have learned
through the same source that a general officer in the
British Army in South Africa is Simon Fraser, General
Lord Lovatt, who, I presume, is one of my illustrious,
though unknown, kin. I can only wish that, if there
be such a person, he were fighting in a better cause
than striving to subdue a brave people contending for
the inalienable rights of home and country. But if he
really represents that sturdy stock of Highlanders
from which I am proud to draw my lineage on my
mother's side, I am sure that, in the place of General
Lord Roberts, it would hardly have taken him two

Appendix 345

years and more to reduce with two hundred thousand
troops twenty thousand Boers.

I have made no reference to my father in this gen-
eralized diversion, though he was born in the vicinage
of Petersburg, and his dust, with the dust of my dead
for nearly two centuries past, sleeps in the hallowed old
cemetery of Blandford Church. The annals of the
Claiborne family are well known to all who take an
interest in them. I will only say that William Clai-
borne, of Kent's Island, who, from 1621 to 1647 ^^'^
later, played no unimportant part in the history of Vir-
ginia and Maryland, was the ancestor of all people of
that name in this country. He was called at one time
"Claiborne the Rebel," and his name was clouded by
one or two historians; but Charles Campbell ("His-
tory of Virginia") and John Fiske ("Old Virginia and
her Neighbors") have happily cleared his name and
established his well-earned fame. Rev. Phihp Slaugh-
ter, in "History of Bristol Parish," says that his charac-
ter has been gracefully summed up by a gifted biogra-
pher, Rev. S. F. Streeter, of Baltimore. Mr. Streeter
says "the hand of prejudice, prompted by personal sub-
servience, traced on the tablet of History an inscrip-
tion as unjust to the character and actions of the de-
ceased, as unbecoming the dignity of the historic muse.
It has been reserved for an humble inquirer, and a
lover of the truth,, to erect a new cenotaph, which dis-
plays the name of Claiborne as worthy of honor and re-
spect; and which ranks him who planted it in this
country as a man of whom his descendants have every
reason to be proud — one of the earliest pioneers of
civilization, the first actual settler of the territory of
Maryland, and among the most active and prominent
citizens in the early days of Virginia, and one of the
most remarkable men of his time."

346 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

AMERICAN BASTILES.

From the organization of the Government to the ad-
ministration of Mr. Lincohi we know of no case in
which an American citizen was arrested without war-
rant, imprisoned without charge, and released after
months and years of incarceration without trial. He
assumed quasi plenary power to make and enforce laws
without the aid, interference, or assistance of the legis-
lative or judicial branch of the Government. "The
Government was the President, and the President was
the Government."

No words we could use would bring relief to or re-
dress the wrongs perpetrated upon thousands of unof-
fending citizens by their unwarranted incarceration in
American Bastiles during his administration. We con-
template the cruelties, oppressions, persecutions, and
imprisonments committed during that long night of
political despotism with emotions akin to horror. Hon.
Jeremiah Black, writing to Mr. Quincy Adams, of
Massachusetts, says "there was nothing comparable to
the corruption and viciousness of the government since
the days of Robespierre and the French Revolution."

The whole land of the free Northern States was dot-
ted over with forts, penitentiaries, jails, barracks, and
prison camps, — x\merican Bastiles, — which contained
during the short period of four years from ten to tzventy
thousand men, besides women and children, all citizens
of free States, and incarcerated by the edict of one man
because they did not choose or were supposed not to
obey his mandates — suspects. The drama of the
French Revolution re-enacted. When Camille Desmoul-
ins was told during that bloody era to worship the
Goddess of Liberty, he replied, "If ye would have me
worship it [a statue in stone], open your prisons, set
free the two hundred thousand ye have incarcerated

Appendix 347

as suspects. I find no such crime in the constitution
or the law."

Six hundred and eighty-seven years ago the people
of England, at Runnymede, an island in the river
Thames, wrested from King John the Magna Charta,
the great guarantee of personal hberty to every Eng-
lishman. It says : "No freeman shall be taken or im-
prisoned, dispossessed or outlawed, or in any way de-
troyed. Nor will we pass upon him nor commit him
but by the lawful judgment of his peers, or by the law
of the land. To no man will we sell; to none will we
delay; to none will we deny right or justice."

In these words are found the monuments of personal
liberty fought over and contested for in centuries of
bloody wars, but ever preserved intact, the pride and
the glory of the Briton of to-day.

When George III attempted to rob his colonies in
America of these sacred rights, which as Englishmen
they had brought over from the Fatherland, they re-
newed the fight on this continent and continued it until
the citizen's home was recognized as his castle, from
which he could only be ejected by law. The writ of
habeas corpus could be invoked to bring him face to face
with his accuser, and to guarantee to him a trial by his
peers before commitment for any offense. And these
rights were preserved undisputed and indisputable
from the acknowledgment of independence of these
United Colonies until the introduction into power of
the Republican Party and the usurpation of its un-
scrupulous leaders. What followed then? Then "the
word of the informer was the law, the sound of
Seward's httle bell was the signal, and the telegraph
the messenger. Citizens were arrested by thousands
and incarcerated without warrant. Judges were torn
from the bench, bruised and bleeding ; ministers of the
gospel, while performing the sacred of^ces and holy

348 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

duties of their calling, were stricken down, dragged
through the streets and imprisoned. Women were in-
carcerated and subjected to insult and outrage. Doctors
were ruthlessly taken from the bedside of the dying
patient, and immured for months without warrant.
Lawyers were arrested and confined to the same cell
with their clients whose release they were endeavoring
to effect. Post-offices were searched, newspapers seized
and suppressed, and the editors handcuft'ed and secret-
ly hurried to prison. The writ of Jiabeas corpus was a
blank, and all of our inheritable rights poor, poor dumb
mouths."

After the destruction of the Bastile in Paris, which
for an hundred years, perhaps, had been the horrid home
of political prisoners in France, and their hidden graves,
Lafayette took the key of the accursed building and
sent it over to General Washington as a token of the
restoration of the liberty of the citizen. This key it is
said now hangs in the Mansion House at Mount Ver-
non. But where is the key to Fort Warren, to Fort Mc-
Henry, to Fort Delaware, to Fort Lafayette, to the old
Capitol Prison, to the Penitentiaries, to the casemates
and camps throughout the loyal North?

If any one thinks that in the above we have made an
exaggerated statement, let us refer him to a book
called "United States Bonds" and published soon after
the Civil War by the Rev. Dr. Handy, a Presbyterian
divine of unexceptionable truthfulness; or to "The
American Bastile," a history of Prisoners of State dur-
ing the Administration of President Lincoln, prepared
by a resolution of a convention of the "Prisoners of
State," by John A. Marshall, Esq. This note is taken
largely, and sometimes verbatim, from the latter book ;
also from "Three Decades of the Federal Union," by
Hon. S. S. Cox, of New York. But I may be asked,
Why recall all of this, why reproduce so much to-day

Appendix 349

that was a disgrace and a scandal to free government
not forty years ago? Alas! it is not a "recall" or a
"reproduction" to many. The most of the witnesses
of the scenes recounted, the most of the sufferers from
the malignity of the passions of men, mad with power
and drunk with blood, have passed away. The op-
pressor and the oppressed, the murderer and his vic-
tim have met now before the Great Assize, where
wrong will be adjudicated in a light that will make bare
the truth, and before that Judge who declared that
"Vengeance is mine." Those for whom I write have,
the most of them, no bitter memories of war, no haunt-
ing recollection of the gall and iron of the days of re-
construction. The citizen of to-day is shutting his
eyes to the past; the times are prosperous, money is
plentiful, big jobs are given out by the Government,
and subsidies are assured to the faithful adherents of
party. Why? Where is the unreturning past? Why
does history never reproduce itself? What citizen
would have believed in the year of our Lord 1855 that
in one decade, in the induction of one man into power,
that a revolution would have been sprung upon a coun-
try the happiest and freest upon earth, the hope and
the haven of the oppressed of all nations, and that the
Constitution would be ignored ; that the laws would be
declared silent ; that the sovereignty of the State should
be abolished ; that a million of armed men should tram-
ple the fields then whitening with harvest ; that brother
would imbue his hand in brother's blood, until river
and rivulet were stained with scarlet; that helpless
women and more helpless children should be driven
out into winter's cold and made to witness the con-
flagration of homes and of food and of clothing — and
to their piteous appeal for mercy should be told by the
greatest in authority, by him who alone could have
helped them, that "war was hell, and the hotter he

350 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

could make it the sooner it would be over." And that
when some of the noblest and best of the citizens,
upon whom no taint of crime or disloyalty could be
established, by thousands were arrested without law
and convicted without trial : that the Bastile with its
dungeons, its casemates, its silent cells awaited only
the order of one man to receive their hopeless victims,
and that the tinkle of a little bell could summon any
citizen from San Francisco to Washington, from the
Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic, and that only one man
could release him.

I ask again. Is history reproducing itself? Within
the last few years the President of the United States,
in violation of all the traditions of the Republic, and
of the teachings of the Father of his Country, and of
the Constitution and laws of his country, which he had
sworn before the High God to uphold, not only inau-
gurated a war, but bought after its outcome a colony of
ten millions of subj'ects in islands seven thousand miles
from the United States — bought from a party not hav-
ing right of possession, and paid twenty millions of dol-
lars for the same, without the will and consent of the
Senate. One Senator has persistently avowed that he
voted for the ratification of the treaties on personal
promise of the President that these islands should not
be retained. How many voted under the same im-
pression does not appear, but the islands are still held,
and the inhabitants are still subjects, not citizens; sub-
jects of an autocracy, are under civic-military rule, have
no more voice in the government which imposes and
collects taxes of them, and which makes the laws for the
regulation of their lives, and establishes the control of
them, than the subject of the Turk or of the Czar of
Russia. Can these things be corollaries of a past that
prognosticates no danger to the future? Is the liberty
of speech secured to the citizen of to-day? If so, why

Appendix 351

not to the subject of our foreign possessions? If there
be a censorship of the press at Manila, is it too much to
beHeve that it may antedate a gag upon papers pub-
Hshed in New York or Washington? Mr. Stephen
Bonsall, a gentleman of character and observation, who
spent some months in the Philippines last year, and
who has published in the Nezv York Herald of January
26, 1902, some of the results of his observation, says
that when he advised an officer of the Government,
about to return to Washington, to tell what he had
seen as an ofificer in the field, that discreet gentleman
remarked that "the very first thing that he should do
when he got ofif the steamer would be to buy a pad-
lock and put it on his lips, and throw the key down the
deepest well he could find."

This may not have been very honest or patriotic, but
it is typical of what might have been reasonably ex-
pected. "The man on horseback" evidently rules our
citizens of the Philippines. How long before he shall
transfer his mount to the Capitoline Hill at Washing-
ton? Quoque tandem Cataline nostra patientia abutire!

DAHLGREN'S RAID

The papers found on Colonel Dahlgren's body, after
announcing in an address to his followers, his officers
and men, the desperate but "great and glorious under-
taking" before them, and advising any one who was
not willing to sacrifice his life in such a cause "to step
out and go home to the arms of his sweetheart, and
read of the braves who swept through the city of
Richmond," detailed the order of attack, with special
instructions to "guides, pioneers [with oakum, tur-
pentine, and torpedoes], signal officers, quartermas-
ters, pickets, and scouts in rebel uniform," etc. "After
getting- in to the city," he said, "we hope to release the

352 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

prisoners on Belle Island first, and having seen them
fairly started, we will cross James River into Rich-
mond, destroying the bridges after us, and exhorting
the released to destroy the hateful city, and not to al-
low the Rebel leader and his traitorous crew to es-
cape. * * * " Further on he orders,, "once in the
city, the men must keep together, well in hand, and the
city be destroyed, and Jeff Davis and Cabinet killed."

These orders, extracts from which are here given,
were written on a sheet of paper having in printed let-
ters on the upper corner: "Headquarters Third Divis-
ion, Cavalry Corps — 1864," and were addressed to "of-
ficers and men." A full copy of these orders (papers
they were called) which were found on the person of
Colonel Dahlgren after he was killed was published in
the Richmond Dispatch of March 5, 1864. Such atrocity
of intention — imagine the reality of crime and the hor-
rors which would have followed the sacking and burn-
ing of a city filled with women and children, whose
natural protectors were absent in the army — excited an
indignation worthy, if possiljle, of such cruel and cow-
ardly malignity. Yet, though all of Dahlgren's imme-
diate followers were captured when he was killed or
during the following day, not one was made to pay any
other penalty than that of being incarcerated in Libby
Prison as prisoners of war!

Of course, indignant denial of the authenticity of
these documents was made by the Northern press,
which charged that they were forged by the Rebels.
Rear-Admiral Dahlgren, in a memoir of his son pub-
lished in 1872, reiterated the charge of forgery, and
makes a statement which he supposes establishes the
innocence of his son. Colonel Dahlgren's signal offi-
cer, Lieutenant Bartley, in a letter published December
24, 1864, also denies that any such "orders or address"
were ever issued or made. We cannot blame an hon-

Appendix ' ' 353

ored and distressed father for his attempts to rescue
the name of a son from such obloquy as must ever at-
tach to it; but Lieutenant Bartley has invalidated his
testimony by referring to the treatment he received as
a prisoner of v^ar, saying, "All this brutal t; oatment
was inflicted upon us, according to the statement of
the Confederate prison officials, on account of those
papers said to have been found on the body of Colonel
Dahlgren at the time he was killed." In his case what
"this cruel treatment" was has yet to be demonstrated
and corroborated. It was evidently not what he de-
served, or it would not have been tempered with the
mercy which permitted him to testify as early as De-
cember, 1864, and while yet a prisoner of war, that his
captors were cruel and malicious. As to the authen-
ticity of the papers taken from the body of his com-
manding officer, that can be established by proof as
perfect and irrefragable as human testimony can
make it.

On failing to unite with Kilpatrick on the contem-
plated raid to Richmond, Dahlgren found himself ap-
parently left to his fate by that officer, and made a dar-
ing attempt to retreat through the counties of Han-
over, King William, and King and Queem, and reach
Gloucester, where he expected reinforcements or
troops would be sent to meet him. Though harassed
by small parties of Confederates on his way, on the sec-
ond night he had gotten, with small loss, to a place
called Stevensville, in King and Queen. Lieut. H. E.
Blair, afterwards Judge H. E. Blair, of Salem, Virginia,
a Confederate officer who had been captured two days
before by Dahlgren, and who had been detained and
rode with the enemy to this point, says : "I was riding
with the main line, near the front, when I perceived
there was some trouble ahead. Dahlgren rode forward,
I heard him challenge some one; heard him snap his

354 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia '■

pistol, which was at once followed by a fire in return.
That was the shot I suppose which killed him. A gen-
eral fire was opened by the Confederates, and the
Yankees were greatly alarmed and confused. I got
off my horse and opened a fence, and they retreated into
a field. I then called to our men, told them who I was,
and went to them ; they told me they had killed a man
with a wooden leg. I said to them, 'this is Dahlgren.'
They searched his person and found the papers which
were afterwards delivered to the Confederate Govern-
ment."

Judge Blair was witness number seven of the authen-
ticity of the papers. The body of Confederates which
intercepted and killed or captured Dahlgren and his
party was described by one of their number as "a
strange medley of regulars, raw troops, old farmers,
preachers, school boys, etc." The man giving the de-
scription says of himself that he was an humble school-
master— afterwards the Rev. E. W, Halback; and that
one of his school-boys, named Littlepage, was the first
to reach the body of the fallen officer, though none of
them knew who he was then, and who handed him the
papers. They were read the following morning after
they were captured by Captain Fox, Captain Pollard,
Rev. R. H, Bagby, and others, and were then turned
over to Captain Pollard and taken by him to Gen. R.
L. T. Beale, of the Ninth Virginia Cavalry, who carried
them to General Fitz Lee, and were taken by him to
President Davis. They were then sent by order of Mr.
Benjamin, Secretary of State, through General Stevens,
to Major Albert H. Campbell, of the Engineering and
Topographical Bureau, with instructions to make fifty
copies. One of these "photographic fac-similes of an
address to his men, and a memorandum or draft of in-
struction found on the person of Col. W. Dahlgren,
United States Army, when killed during his raid on

Appendix 355

Richmond in 1864," was sent by Major Campbell to
Colonel George W. Munford, Secretary of the South-
ern Historical Society, March 7, 1874. All of these
ge»tlemen — men of undoubted character, and some of
high position — testify that the copy of the papers
published in the Richmond press was a true copy of
those taken from the body of Colonel Dahlgren.

Any one wishing to confirm this statement will find
the most conclusive testimony of the same, and a most
interesting account of the whole affair, in Vol. 3,
Southern Historical Papers, pages 219-221, by that gal-
lant soldier and high-toned gentleman, General R. T. L.
Beale, of the Ninth Virginia Cavalry; and again in
"Southern Historical Papers," pages 215-560, by sev-
eral participants in the stirring incidents of that raid;
and in a letter written to the Historical Magazine, New
York, 1870, by that peerless and chivalrous soldier,
General Fitz Lee, whom none will accuse at this day of
"setting down aught in malice" ; and in "Lost Cause,"
page 504, by E. W. Halback.

Colonel Dahlgren's father complained that "nothing
better was permitted to the precious remains [of his
son] that a common pine box, the coarse shirt and
pantaloons of a Rebel soldier, with an ordinary camp
blanket for a shroud." Some of the people of the South
were silly enough to believe at that time that what was
good enough for a Rebel soldier was good enough for
a Yankee officer whose atrocious designs placed him
beyond the pale of treatment measured to an honor-
able enemy. General Lee, with subtle satire, says:
"Let us put the shoe on the other foot. Imagine Gen-
eral Early's body found in the vicinity of Washington
when his forces retired from there in July of the same
year, with orders upon it to 'destroy and burn the hate-
ful city' and 'to kill Abe Lincoln and his Cabinet,* ex-
horting long-pent-up prisoners with long-pent-up re-

356 Seventy-iive Years in Old Virginia

vengeful feelings to do it. I ask, would his remains
have been taken up tenderly, and interred in the Con-
gressional burying ground, and his memory be cher-
ished as a 'martyred hero'?"

An incident of this raid showing the cruelty of which
Dahlgren was capable, and leading us to beheve that
the infamous orders, whose authenticity we have es-
tablished, were in consonance with his true character,
we read in the Detroit Free Press of March 11, 1882.
This was contributed by one of Dahlgren's staff, Lieu-
tenant Bartley. Mr. Bartley says, speaking of the ne-
gro guard in the expedition:

This man came down from Washington, and was sent by Stanton,
who was a personal friend of the Colonel. He made a bargain with
Kilpatrick and Dahlgren to take them to a ford at Davis's Mill, above
Richmond, when his services would cease ; and in case of any mis-
take or treachery on his part, he was to be hanged; and if he came
out all right he was to receive a large sum of money. He took us
safely through on these terms, and though he had plenty of oppor-
tunities to escape, never left us. There was no ford at Davis's Mill
on the river at all ; but a steam ferry, with the boat on the opposite
side. When asked why he had misled us he could or would not
give any satisfactory answer. The Colonel then told him that he
would have to carry out his part of the contract, to which the guide
assented, admitted that was the agreement, and made no objection to
the execution. He went to the tree without any force, and submitted
to his fate (hanging) without a murmur.

The comment made by Mr, Bartley upon this affair
was that it was "mysterious." Why mysterious? Mur-
der is sometimes mysterious, but never when done in
open daylight, and in the presence of a thousand wit-
nesses. A citizen testifies that there was a ford at Da-
vis's Mill, to which the poor negro conducted them,
but the river was swollen by rain and not fordable at
the time. But what was this to a man thirsty for blood
and impatient at the delay of the contemplated massa-
cre at Richmond ! The poor victim made no resistance
to his cowardly executioners, of course, and he was

Appendix 357

hung by a halter like a dog. The same citizen said that
the tree was pointed out for years afterwards.

"WHO FIRED THE FIRST GUN?"

Dr. J. William Jones gives an account in a recent num-
ber of the Richmond Dispatch (October 6, 1901) of a
discussion which he overheard between a private sol-
dier of the Thirteenth Virginia Regiment and a Feder-
al colonel in reference to the origin of the war. He
said that he took no part in it, as he knew that in a dis-
cussion of that character the average Confederate pri-
vate was more than a match for the average Federal
colonel. The Federal colonel, with a considerable air
of superiority, said: "Sir, I will ask you one question,
which will settle this discussion : 'Who fired the first
gun in this war'?" As quick as a flash the private re-
plied, "John Brown fired the first gun at Harper's Fer-
ry; Major Anderson fired the second gun when he vio-
lated the agreement between himself and the author-
ities of South Carolina, and moved from Moultrie into
Sumter; Mr. Buchanan fired the third gun when he
sent the Star of the West to provision and reinforce
Sumter; Mr. Lincoln fired the fourth gun when he
violated the pledge made to the Confederate Commis-
sioners, and sent that fleet to Charleston Harbor — and
your people have been firing ever since. Now, if you
will just cease firing this war will stop and peace will
come at once." Says Dr. Jones, "The brave, intelligent
private clearly expressed the facts, and silenced the
Federal colonel, who had never before taken that view
of the case."

Mr. Lincoln did not expect to bring on war when he
called for seventy-five thousand troops from the differ-
ent States. After the passage of the first troops, the
Sixth Massachusetts, through Baltimore on April 16,

358 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

1861, which led to a collision between them and the
citizens, resulting in the death of four soldiers and the
wounding of thirty-six, and the death of twelve citizens
(the number of wounded was never known), the city
of course was thrown into the wildest excitement. The
climax of this excitement was reached on the morning
of the 2 1st, when it was reported that more troops were
approaching from the North. Judge Brown, of that
city, says: "It was a fearful day in Baltimore. Men,
women, and children were wild with excitement. A
certainty of a fight in the streets was the pressing
danger." At five minutes before 11 A. M. the bell of
the town clock summoned to arms, and a large part of
the male population including boys and old meii,
thronged to headquarters, and arms and ammunition
were distributed and full preparations made for a con-
flict. The military proper were under command of
Major General George H. Stuart, and the un-uniformed
under command of Col. J. R. Trimble. In the mean-
time, a dispatch had been received from Washington,
saying that the troops had been ordered back to Har-
risburg. Mr. Lincoln had wired the Mayor of Balti-
more, at three o'clock that morning, to come to Wash-
ington and consult in reference to keeping the peace in
Maryland. The Mayor, Judge Brown, went to W^ash-
ington, accompanied by several prominent citizens of
Baltimore, and an interview was held with Mr. Lincoln
in the presence of the Cabinet and General Scott. At
this interview the President asserted with great earn-
estness that the protection of Washington was the sole
object of the concentrating of troops there, and that
none of the troops broj-ight through Maryland were
intended for any purpose hostile to the State or ag-
gression against the Southern States.

"In reply," Judge Brown says, "I addressed myself
to the President and said with much earnestness that

Appendix; 359

the disabling of the bridges leading to Baltimore was
done by authority, and that it was a measure of pro-
tection in a sudden emergency designed to prevent
bloodshed in Baltimore, and was not intended as an
act of hostility to the general Government; that the
people of Maryland had always been deeply attached
to the Union, but that they, including the citizens of
Baltimore, regarded the proclamation calling for sev-
enty-five thousand troops as an act of war on the South,
and a violation of its constitutional rights; and that it
was not surprising that a high-spirited people, holding
such opinions, should resent the passage of Northern
troops through their city for such a purpose. At this,
Mr. Lincoln was greatly excited, and springing up from
his chair, walked backward and forward through the
apartment, and said with great feeling, *Mr. Brown, I
am not a learned man, I am not a learned man' ; that
his proclamation had not been correctly understood;
that he had no intention of bringing on war, but that
his purpose was to defend the Capital, which was in
danger of being bombarded from the heights across
the Potomac."

No more troops were brought through Baltimore,
but through Annapolis, continuously, until General
Butler, on the 13th of May, entered Baltimore with
two Northern regiments and inaugurated the series of
outrages upon the citizens of that city — outrages of
unparalleled ferocity and injustice — which continued
until the war was over. As soon as that especial piece
of treacherous villainy, worthy of its shameless and un-
principled author, was perpetrated, thousands of the
best men of the State — twenty thousand — left it and
came South, throwing in their fortunes with the cause
of right as interpreted by the Confederate Government.

It is not within the province of this paper to follow
farther the story of their patriotic and self-immolating

360 Seventy-five Years in Old Virginia

service in the Southern Armies. Literally leaving all,
— friends, fortune, home, — they laid down their lives
for principle. And wherever you find a Confederate
monument to the dead, there you will find at its foot
the grave of a Maryland soldier.

l^frmfyn^v^

^K}07

^°-^^ '.

•?v^ "^^ "-.^p/ >^'^%. °^y|f^*' -^^ \ ^^^.*'' j'''^^

^p-^^

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

0002t>7H7fi31

'^■' ;:tl

iiii

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Texts

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "Seventy-five years in old Virginia; with some account of the life of the author and some history of the people amongst whom his lot was cast,--their character, their condition, and their conduct before the war, during the war and after the war"

See other formats